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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494989">Velvet Owl</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupyacunt/pseuds/shutupyacunt'>shutupyacunt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>America's Red-Headed Stepchild [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aftermath of Torture, America Can't Control His Kids, America The Dope Fiend, America has Issues, Bipolar Disorder, Descent into Madness, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Germany Gets Greedy, Germany the Impressionable, Gratuitious Use of Force, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Instability, Multi, Nobody Cares about Your Hurt Feelings, Oregon Tries to Deny, Police Brutality, Psychological/Mind Games, Racism, Racist Language, The Pacific Northwest Racist as Hell, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Washington Shows Her True Colors and They aren't Nice, Washington is an Instigator, violence between siblings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:08:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24494989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shutupyacunt/pseuds/shutupyacunt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As civil unrest spreads across the United States, one of America's children goes as far as she believes is necessary to keep her citizens under control, even if it means hurting them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>America's Red-Headed Stepchild [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1768294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. America</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been a very long three days,  and America was desperate for relief.  He was certain it couldn't possibly get any worse, but just when he took the opportunity to take a breather, to curl up in a nice dark corner with a lovely dose of what he had long eschewed,  it got worse.</p><p>"Dad!! Open up,  Daddy!" </p><p>One of his kids.  He didn't know or care which one it was.  Sounded like Oregon, but he couldn't be too sure.  His head hurt so much.</p><p>"Dad, you gotta open up, please," Oregon pleaded.  "Oh my God, she broke it, she broke my fucking nose--"</p><p>"Goddammit shut up!" he roared, staring at the loaded rig in his hand.   Fuck you,  let me do my hit and leave me alone! </p><p>"Get back here, you self-righteous little bitch..."</p><p>Oregon screamed. </p><p>In fury, America jammed the rig into his thigh and depressed the plunger as fast as he could.  It hurt like hell, and if he got a fucking abscess he would kick Nederlands' ass.</p><p>"What do you want?" he demanded, opening the door just enough to see that yes, it was Oregon, and yes, her nose was definitely broken.  Washington had a tight hold on her arm and looked ready to hit her again.  "Why are you screaming out here?"</p><p>Washington gave Oregon a brutal shake, then slapped her.  "Because she's a goddamned fuckin pansy snowflake who thinks she can tell me what I need to do."</p><p>"Get in here," America said, finally feeling the warm of the heroin.  "Not you, Snowflake.  One at a time."</p><p>"I don't need to talk to you," Washington said, dismissively.  "I only came to drop off that thing you wanted.  Saw this SJW in the foyer wringing her damn hands with Ni--"</p><p>Oregon swung her fist, but Washington caught it and squeezed it hard.  "Don't you ever swing on me," she hissed.  "I wasn't talking to you.  Dad, here, take this.  I've got to get home. I have things to get done, and unlike the rest of this foolish family I will get them done."  She slapped a small pouch into his hand, and his fist closed around it quickly.   He nodded to her.</p><p>"Dad, I need your help!" Oregon exclaimed.   "Lots of us do! Portland's a mess.  My police are overwhelmed.  I don't know what to do!"</p><p>Washington gave a rude, derisive sound and strode away.  The slam of the front door was very loud.  Oregon stared at him with her stuck-up, self-important face streaked with tears.  America couldn't really blame Washington for losing her temper.  "Yes, Daria," he murmured,  patting her head.  "You aren't the only one with problems today.  So tell me what you're doing right now to deal with it."</p><p>But his mind wandered, and kept taking him to the promised land of a nice, fat shot.  The dope he got from Nederland was good, but it didn't last as long as the stuff Washington could get from China.  He thought how odd it was that Washington would even deal with China, considering their tense economic relationship.  Oh well, he thought.</p><p>"Daddy!  Are you listening?" Oregon shrieked.  "This has never happened to me before! What do I need to do about this?"</p><p>He hummed softly.   "Maybe it's time to take a little trip out West," he said.  "I want to see how bad it is."</p><p>"Dad, I didn't ask you what you should do! I asked you what I should do!  And Washington! 
Kate is completely out of line! What the hell is wrong with her?  She hit me! You saw just now!" Oregon shouted.</p><p>America was officially tired of her voice.   "And I'm sure she must have had a good reason for it," he murmured, feeling fuzzy.  He herded her out the door and gave her a quick peck on her bruised cheek.  "Go on upstairs to your old room and get some nice rest.  We can talk more in the morning."</p><p>"But--"</p><p>He shut the door.</p><p>Now,  now he could get loaded.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Washington</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had to admit, it was a beautiful sight.  The brightness of the fires against the night, silhouettes of burnt-out cars.  Chaos amused her, and engaging in it was fun.</p><p>But they were just so messy,  and destroying all the wrong things.  They were animals, and she was going to have to treat them as such.</p><p>She sat very straight and very still.  Governor Inslee would not meet her eyes.  Both his secretary general and his personal assistant looked as though they would rather be on the International Space Station instead of sitting here with her.   </p><p>She couldn't blame them.</p><p>"Governor,  I have tried to be fair," she said, sighing regretfully.  "I have given you three days to figure out this mess.  Now I'm afraid your inaction has left us with no alternative.   Governor," she cut him off as he began to speak.  "With each passing night of this...destruction,  more and more people are being put into harm's way by the foolish actions of these...creatures.   People's civil liberties are being threatened." She turned to the man on her right.  "Implement Order 38-08-30."</p><p>"You can't!" Inslee finally found his voice. "I object!"</p><p>"You have had three days to object.  It's a little late now," Washington said, flatly.  She looked at the man again.  "At once, Bergerson."  As the man left the room, she settled into a more relaxed position.  "I think you'll find that there will be an immediate improvement."</p><p>Inslee's nostrils flared.  "This is complete madness!"</p><p>"Yes, it is," Washington snapped,  glaring at him.  "So it's time to stop pussyfooting around these goddamn zoo animals and show them that we mean business.  No more empty shows of force."  Her eyes narrowed.   "Any resistance will be met with...consequences.  If anyone attempts to disrupt the process, I have given my special task force leave to crush them."</p><p>Governor Inslee stared in disbelief at the surveillance system.  "Tanks! What have you done?"</p><p>She shook her head, feeling at the same time both giddy and mournful.  "You did this, not me."  A tight smile.  "They are equipped with live rounds,  and have been instructed to fire upon anyone who moves against them."</p><p>"You can't do this!"</p><p>She frowned.  "I can, and have.  Your chance at avoiding this has passed.  Take him below,  please."  Her other two companions, Special Agents Frey and Spethmann, moved to take the startled Governor by the arms.  "For your safety,  of course. Take his phone," she added.  "He won't be needing it. "</p><p>As the room emptied, she moved to the dark window and looked out.  The glow of the fires was barely visible, but she could hear the tanks and the accompanying bullhorn.   A loud surge of voices swelled in the night, but she had expected that.   The voices were answered by a single shot from one of the tanks.  Instantly the anger in the voices sharpened into panic and fear.</p><p>Washington smiled. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Russia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He could still sense her.</p><p>Although it had been nearly a hundred and seventy years since America had adopted her, Russia was still irrevocably linked to his daughter with Finland.</p><p>He could still feel her, and she was sick.</p><p>Oh, she had always been.  Prone to wild mood swings, violent fits of rage, inappropriate bouts of merriment (the woman had, as a child, laughed when he had nearly been decapitated by Prussia).  She would experience periods of extreme happiness,  as she had just recently, only to then plunge into darkness.  There was a name for it, as humans craved labels for everything: bipolar disorder. </p><p>If that had been the only issue, he could have handled her.  But it was not.  </p><p>She was also schizophrenic. </p><p>He scrolled the horrible video links, the photos.  Shell-shocked citizens who had been out voicing their dissatisfaction with the racial  disparities in the United States. Perhaps it had got a little out of control,  yes. Other states were also deploying supplimental National Guardsmen to assist the police. </p><p>But <em>this</em>.  People were physically crushed beneath the treads of tanks.  Fired upon.  </p><p>No names other than a "senior ranking official in State Government", but he knew. </p><p>Russia sighed.  He had not expected anything of this magnitude.  When Finland had called him, had called him <em>crying</em>, he had not wanted to believe that it was possible. </p><p>It was more than possible.  It <em>was</em>.</p><p>He had about fifteen hundred messages from that troublemaker Prussia.  Apparently he and Denmark were not only having trouble reaching America,  but Washington as well.  He sighed.  This was one of those scenarios that he long entertained in his mind but had never actually wanted to have come to pass.  Germany would have to be informed,  he knew.  She wouldn't tell him about her bipolar disorder.   And she certainly wouldn't tell him that she was schizophrenic.   Russia wasn't even sure if she was aware of it.  He was going to have to warn his old nemesis. </p><p>So sorry,  Germaniya, but you must know.  If you are not careful with your actions and words she will try to murder you in your sleep.</p><p>He sighed.  With each passing day he was feeling worse and worse, and it was all her fault,  the poor thing.  She could not help it.</p><p>He had to warn Germany.   Stay away, please.  Even if she tells you she loves you. Especially then.  </p><p>It was happening. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Germany</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seven messages.</p><p>Why was Russia trying to reach him?  He listened to all of them, but they were infuriating in their cryptic language.  The Russia had never quite gotten over his paranoia of being surveilled.  As he was listening to the final message, his phone vibrated in his hand. </p><p>
  <em>Danger, Germaniya.  Has Washington called you?  If she does, do not answer!  Make her text you. </em>
</p><p><em>What the fuck?  </em>Germany thought, frowning at the screen.</p><p>Was something going on at her place? </p><p>Oh. <em>Oh</em>.</p><p><em>That</em> would be something. </p><p>Where was Amerika?</p><p>Not answering the phone, for one thing.  It was a good thing he was persistent.  He called Amerika over and over until he got an answer.  </p><p>"Germany, dude, whoa on the phone calls, man," he said.  Germany was instantly alert and sitting straight up.  "What's so urgent?"</p><p>"Are you all right, Am...erika?" Germany asked, carefully.  There was a deep, scratchy slowness to Amerika's voice that he knew from somewhere.  A <em>few</em> somewheres. </p><p>"'M fine.  Nothing a little self-medication doesn't fix," Amerika drawled.  "Guess you've seen the news.  Everybody's seen it, fuck, man.  What a riot.  Ha!"</p><p>"Oooh," someone in the background said, "too soon."</p><p>Germany's eyes narrowed.  "Is that Washington?"</p><p>"Not right now she isn't," Amerika whispered.  "I won't go into details right now but she wants me to call her Kate.  All the time.  For now.  Hey, did you know she punched Oregon in the face?  Remember that one time when she punched <em>you?" </em> He laughed again.  "Only she didn't break Oregon's jaw, thank God.  Just her nose."</p><p>Now thoroughly annoyed and confused, Germany stood up and squared off with the unmistakably high Amerika.  "Give Kate the phone," he insisted. </p><p>"Uh uh, I can't," Amerika replied.  "She's busy.  I can tell her to call you."</p><p>"No!"  Germany suddenly remembered Russia's message.  "Tell her to text me.  You know," he added, quickly scrolling through the few news stories he could find on her situation, "just in case someone is tapping in."</p><p>"Dude, you're right," Amerika said, sounding relieved.  "I'm so glad I've got such a smart friend."</p><p>Germany frowned.  "Amerika, how much heroin are you using?"</p><p>America scoffed.  "Huh, not enough.  But Kate says that I need to keep a clear head, y'know, for <em>decision making." </em></p><p>This was too much.  Germany turned and stared at Prussia, who just happened to be leaving the room with Denmark.  He caught his Bruder's eye and the other paused.</p><p>"Amerika, don't you think you should be taking it easy on that sort of thing?" he asked carefully.  What the hell was going on?  Why was he depending on Washington to keep an eye on his drug use?</p><p>Didn't he know she was not<em>...all there?</em></p><p>"Dude, I'm fine," Amerika said, sounding miffed.  "Hey, I gotta go.  A bunch of protesters just got arrested, so we're going downtown to see what's up with em."</p><p>Click</p><p>Germany stared at the screen.</p><p>
  <em>Violent Protests Threaten Neighborhood, 46 Arrested</em>
</p><p>Every article was exactly the same, until he reached the last one.  Buried beneath every other article, he nearly missed it.  It was written by an unknown source:</p><p>
  <em>46 Arrested During Peaceful Protest; Twenty People Shot While Handcuffed; Unknown Number of Fatalities </em>
</p><p>He pursed his lips, considering.  If it were true, that could be bad.  But who was to say?  It was likely a ploy.</p><p>Because of course one would <em>expect</em> mainstream media to be lying.  And Washington was clever.  She would have them report the truth and then people would expect it to be a lie, because that was what always happened.  Knowing this, the people intelligent enough to recognize that it was a diversionary tactic could deduce that the stories of violence against unsuspecting neighbors were actually true. </p><p><em>Brilliant</em>, he thought. </p><p>He could learn from her.</p><p>But first, he had better see about Russia.  Maybe after they talked they could decide whether they should be worried.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. America II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was almost embarrassed to admit that he had never been inside one of his own jails before.  America was surprised at how much like the cell blocks in Nuremberg it was, white and sterile and extremely unpleasant, both to the eye and to every other sense.  It was cold, even for an air-conditioned room during the summer. </p><p>Of course, the goose bumps on his arms might be because he needed another shot.</p><p>He sighed. </p><p>Kate glanced over at him, then nodded at the little window that gave them a look into the holding cell.  "What do you think?"</p><p>America stared at them.  "I think they look pathetic."  They did.  There wasn't a single one over the age of thirty and they all looked mad.  All of them, not even old enough to have ever experienced what it had been like during Jim Crow times.  They thought this was bad?  Maybe it was, but it was <em>nothing</em> like it had been. </p><p>He wondered if that made them just as entitled as any other sniveling brat.  What about Armenians who had been driven from the land where they had always lived and nearly wiped out...you didn't see them going out and destroying cities afterwards ...</p><p>"Sh," Kate hissed as she heard his thoughts.  Out of all his children, she was the only one who could casually read his mind.  It was for this reason that he felt secure with her, enough to fall asleep next to her.  There was simply no room for secrets between them.  "I don't think I have to tell you that they wouldn't understand that analogy.  Besides, it doesn't quite work.  I don't know if any Armenian Americans have ever died in police custody, Alfred.  But you can't explain anything to animals like these.  They aren't intelligent enough."</p><p>He snorted.  "What are you going to do with them?"</p><p>"Me?  Nothing.  Well, not exactly.  See that one there, with the tattoos on his neck?  He's the one whose idea it was to swarm into that residential area."  She looked quickly towards him, pausing.  Then she came even closer to the window and said, "Take a good long look at him.  Look at that disrespectful posture.  See how he can't take the time to dress properly but he sure as hell can take the time to plan the destruction of innocent livelihoods.  Even now he thinks he's untouchable.  Thinks he'll be able to get a lawyer to help him.  You can see he's a potential problem.  What do you think should be done with them, Alfred?"</p><p>He stared through the glass at the young man.  It didn't take a lot of guesswork to figure out that the kid was obviously well-versed in criminal activity.  America felt his lip curl.  He had suppressed it for a very long time, but old feelings never truly vanished completely.  He had tried to ignore it, because he was America, for Christ's sake, where all men were created equal...but riffraff must not be allowed to flourish.  The blatant defiance on that face!  The disregard for the safety of others!  The equally disrespectful ink on his neck.  He sneered.  "We need to educate them."  </p><p>"Yes," Washington said, calmly.  "They must be taught a lesson.  What better way to do that than by making an example of the one, to educate the many?"  She returned to stand at his side.  "Who should it be, Alfred?"</p><p>His eyes narrowed.  Gradually the anxiety he had begun to feel as a result of wanting a hit began to be replaced by a cold calculation.  His gaze swept over the cell.  All of them had potential to be a lesson in the consequences of civil disobedience, but he didn't have to make up his mind.  He knew already who it would be.</p><p>"Bitch Neck," he said, firmly.  Kate smiled grimly and turned to the CO.</p><p>"Bring him out here, and let the others watch," she ordered.  She turned back to America and their eyes locked.  </p><p>"He's going to teach his friends a very valuable lesson."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Anyone offended by this needs to understand that this is the way prejudices work.  The racist mindset also doesn't always include blatant shows of prejudice.  It can be very subtle and insidious. I live in a very white community, and as a white person I have never experienced what people of color go through.  I have,  however,  experienced discrimination because of my lifestyle.  The difference is that my lifestyle is a choice whereas people of color are just trying to exist as they are.</p><p>"Bitch Neck" isn't necessarily Black, though.  I've decided to leave that up for interpretation.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. England</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Through England's magic, the nations see the true extent of the madness consuming America.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mr. Kirkland," his perpetually frazzled secretary poked his head into the office, "there's a Mr. Beilschmidt and a Mr. Braginsky here to see you."</p><p>England let out a shaky breath of relief.  For the past two weeks he had been plagued with constant nausea and a dull, persistent headache, but until today he had chalked it up to residual effects of what America was feeling.  He had not exactly been wrong, but he had <em>also</em> not expected to discover what he had discovered. </p><p>Never in a million years would he ever have thought...</p><p>And yet.</p><p>And <em>yet</em>.</p><p>"Send them in, please," he said, when the lad continued to gawk at him.  "Go on then!"  He kept his eyes firmly on the laptop screen.  On it, scenes from every major US city played out in flaming violence.  </p><p>All except one.</p><p>"Arthur," Germany spoke first, as he and Russia filled the room with their massive stature, "what's going on?  Ivan, sit down," he ordered.  He looked at England closely.  "You look just as terrible as he does."</p><p>"Why thank you, Ludwig, I really had no idea," England snarked.  "You know perfectly well what's going on in America right now.  I've got some new information that will not be easy to hear."  He turned to the darkened window and directed his next words at Germany.  "Tell me, Ludwig, how long since you spoke with Kate?  Did she seem a little...<em>off</em> to you?" </p><p>Germany's jaw tensed.  "I spoke with her just yesterday, and she...seemed fine," he said, but looked doubtful.  "Why?  What do you know?"</p><p>"Too much, and I wish I didn't," England sighed.  "It will not be easy for you to hear this, but you must."</p><p>"She has imposed emergency order of martial law," Russia growled.  "I knew this already."</p><p>"What?" Germany barked.  "When did this happen?  Why were we not informed at the meeting!"  He turned to stare at Russia.  "How did you know this?"</p><p>Russia waved a hand dismissively.  "She is daughter. I know everything she does.  Everything," he repeated, looking hard at Germany.  "I've been trying to warn you, but you don't listen."</p><p>"You weren't informed at the meeting because the order did not come from Alfred," England explained.  "He is in no shape to make any kind of decision right now."  He regarded them silently for a minute.  "Ivan, how much do you really know about what is going on over there?"  He smiled grimly.  "I think, perhaps, that you don't truly know the extent of it.  Yes, Kate has imposed martial law.  As of three days ago.  Naturally, when her citizens found out about it they tried to rebel, and they were...soundly put in their place, you might say.  It will be easier for me to just show you," he sighed.  "Talking about it makes me quite ill."  He cleared his throat and added, "Looking at it is really no better, but you need to know what is happening because America needs our help."</p><p>Russia grunted.  Germany was silent.  </p><p>England felt sorry for them.</p><p>Checking the door, he dropped the shade on the window and gestured to them.  "Come here and take a look.  What do you notice out of all these photos?"</p><p>"It looks like all the states are having some sort of help from their military," Germany mused.  "But the curfews are being broken every night."</p><p>"Yes," England said.  "Keep in mind that it has been a few days now, and the violence hasn't got any worse.  In fact,  it's starting to improve.  In Seattle, however,  there wasn't a single arrest for curfew violations after day <em>one</em>.  And look.  There are sentries <em>everywhere</em>.  People supposedly going about their business under the protection of armed soldiers.  Do you notice anything about them?"</p><p>"They're all..."</p><p>"Yes," England said.  "They are all <em>white</em>.  And let me remind you that Seattle is not a whitewashed city.  You both know this from having been there.  So where are the <em>minority</em> populations?  Not only that: where are all the street urchins?"</p><p>Russia frowned.  "England--"</p><p>"Arthur, while we are here."</p><p>"Arthur, then.  It is not impossible for a segment of the population to be successfully hidden away," Russia pointed out.</p><p>"Indeed it isn't, and that's exactly what I want to show you," England confirmed.   He hesitated, looking at Germany and wishing he didn't have to do this.   As much as Germany freaked him out sometimes, they were cousins.  Something that both of them liked to deny.</p><p>He knew seeing this would hurt Germany because it had hurt him, too.</p><p>"Just a minute," Germany interupted, before he could begin.  "If things are supposedly improving, then what is the problem?"</p><p>"The problem is," England snapped, "that America is becoming more and more dependent upon something that is both a liar <em>and</em> poisonous.  And he is not himself under its influence."</p><p>"What does Washington have to do with that?" </p><p>"Just <em>watch</em>, you git," England seethed.  He no longer cared about sparing their feelings.  "You of all <em>people</em> should have known this was bound to happen, as <em>mental</em> as she is."  He seethed to himself as he set up his old looking-glass.  Gods at dawn, he hoped that they wouldn't be immediately greeted by the sight he had been earlier that day.  Watching America shooting up with Washington had not been pleasant. </p><p>At <em>all</em>.</p><p>But watching him paw at her directly afterwards had been <em>worse</em>.  At first she had tolerated it, but within no time she was squirming like a cat to get away from him.  Finally she had managed to shove him off her, but the damage to England's mind was done.</p><p>The image swam into focus and sharpened quickly.  It showed three people in a small room.  One of them was shackled at the wrists and ankles.  He was swaying on his feet, seemingly unable to hold his head up.  A second man reached out and struck him viciously on the side of the head.  Twice.</p><p>Germany recognized the second man instantly by the cowlick in the front.</p><p>"There's no sound," Russia remarked. </p><p>"Believe me, you don't want to hear this,"  England said grimly.  "Just the picture is awful enough."</p><p>As they watched, America turned to his companion--Washington--and said something to her.  She responded by handing him a hammer and a pair of pliers.  She then moved around to shove the shackled man into a table, where the CO uncuffed his hands.</p><p>"What are they doing, he's dange--" Germany began, before he could stop himself.  England winced.  Had the man really started to say, 'dangerous'?</p><p>As they watched, the man lashed out briefly, only for his flailing hand to be caught and pinned to the table by Washington.  In one hand she held his wrist.  The other came down in a sudden, slashing arc.</p><p>The man's entire body stiffened.  Russia swore.  No sound was needed for them to know that the man was screaming.</p><p>A knife impaled his 'free' hand to the table.  </p><p>"Who do they keep looking at?"  Germany asked, quietly.  England regarded him silently.  It seemed to him that Germany was far too interested in the method rather than the madness.</p><p>"Well, if you must know, they are doing this in plain view of a holding cell of this poor man's fellows," England replied.  "Teaching them a <em>lesson</em>, I think it's called."</p><p>Now the reason for immobilizing the hand became apparent.  Even Russia looked nauseated.  America quickly and methodically smashed each digit of that hand.  The process was repeated with the other hand.  Finally, with both hands misshapen and bloody upon the table, America took up the pliers.</p><p>In all their long existence as nations, few acts of torture were as sickening as the removal of one's fingernails.  There were plenty of more brutal methods, but this one in particular was well-utilized to encourage compliance and obedience.  There just didn't seem to be any justification to this.  England knew he should stop them from seeing any more, but he couldn't.  The expression on America's face was terrifying.  Eyes cold and full of a blind, blazing fury.</p><p>Washington circled the table, pausing to say something to America, speaking directly into his ear sometimes, hands on his shoulders.  Each time she did this, the insane hatred in his eyes intensified. </p><p>"What the hell is she doing?" Germany demanded, looking offended that she would stand so close to America. </p><p>"She's goading him."</p><p>England looked in surprise at Russia, who was frowning at this new development.  "Yes, you're right.  She is goading him.  Now, I don't think that you need to see--"</p><p>"Сука," Russia shouted, jumping to his feet and backing away.  "Oh, нет, he did <em>not</em>.  Amerika just <em>shot</em> him!  He is <em>dead!</em>  Washington is--"</p><p>England's blood ran cold.  </p><p><em>Washington</em>. </p><p>She was staring directly at them, as if she knew they were watching and could <em>see</em> them.</p><p>She put a finger to her lips.</p><p><em>Shhhhhh</em>.</p><p>She smiled.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Prussia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To say that he was curious would be an understatement. </p><p>Prussia reviewed the soundless, grainy footage over and over.</p><p>And over.</p><p>Someone apparently had stolen the recordings from the facility this had taken place in, and had intended to release them to the international news media.  Thankfully, Prussia had found him before that could happen.  He had managed to play directly to the man's inherent lust for money.  Now the recordings were safe and so was Washington. </p><p>For the things she was doing, and having others do, were against everything the world strove to avoid.  If they didn't know any better, that was.</p><p>Prussia had no problem admitting to himself that he approved of the Fascist bent she seemed to have taken of late.  He admired that she had taken a problem in hand and had turned it completely against the antagonist masses.</p><p><em>Beautiful</em>, he thought, as he studied and studied.   Paused and replayed.  </p><p>Germany was a senior ranking Party member, Prussia thought.  He could easily implement certain changes to the way things were done.  Maybe some things needed to start shaping up. </p><p>Maybe, just maybe, the brief flash of violence in America's lands was just what they needed to see.  So that they could realize who the True Enemy was.</p><p>Not that anyone <em>deserved</em> to die--Prussia had yet to see anyone else besides the Bitch Necked man get killed outright.  Of <em>course</em> Washington wouldn't want her people to suffer.  All she did was for their own good.  Of <em>course</em> Washington wouldn't want anyone to be able to spread misinformation about the situation, and <em>he</em> would not stand for it either.  She was his ally and friend.  So he had seized the recordings and had made sure that the man he had paid off would not be suddenly returning once the money had run out.</p><p>Prussia <em>hated</em> that shit.  Irresponsible and <em>sloppy</em>.  It would not do at <em>all</em>.</p><p>Speaking of irresponsible and sloppy...</p><p>Maybe when Germany came back from Washington's place they could discuss the possibility of getting Danzig back from Poland.  His former glorious city had fallen into disrepair in recent years, and he was beginning to think Poland didn't really care about it.</p><p>That was just <em>unacceptable</em>. </p><p>Things needed to change all around. </p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Washington II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite not particularly being a morning person, she had always loved the sunrise, especially during the long summer days and long winter nights.  Summer nights never quite got completely dark in her farther North; you were always filled with the expectation that sunrise was just around the corner even at the witches hour; winters left you feeling cheated every afternoon as the light quickly faded before 'clock' evening began, so the next sunrise was salvation.  Just when you thought that it would not come, because it was already nearly eight o'clock and still dark, a pink glow would put its blush upon the earth.  Maybe the sun wouldn't bring physical warmth during these sunrises, but you felt it in your soul.</p><p>Just like an emotion.</p><p>Washington had been sitting on her back deck since the sun had set the night before.  Only five hours of actual darkness, and even then.</p><p>The world only held its breath.  It didn't sleep here.</p><p>It was so peaceful this morning.  Today was the day nosey England and her papa were due to arrive, and she'd agreed to host them, even though she hated having guests.  But it was the only way, she told herself.  She knew why they were coming.  After all, England wasn't exactly stealthy with that magic of his.  It was funny, she mused.  Oregon was England's daughter, and that one never seemed to notice when she was being watched.  And Washington always noticed. Then again, Oregon had been England's, not Russia's like Washington had been.  She would have no reason to need the ability of detecting surveillance. </p><p>At least, she though with grudging appreciation, England was also bringing Germany. </p><p>She sighed and looked into her coffee cup.  Empty.  Of course. </p><p>The golden glow began to swell above the mountains.   From inside the house came the unmistakable sound of America stumbling down the stairs.  "Hey, Wa--Kate," he whisper-screamed.  His usually too-loud voice was strained with his morning panic at not immediately being able to do a shot.</p><p>She scowled.  It was getting out of hand.  But it always did.  The <em>last</em> time this had happened she had told him in no uncertain terms that it would not happen again, yet here they were ninety years later doing the <em>exact</em> same thing, only instead of morphine it was heroin, which in their collective opinion was a hundred times better. </p><p>And this was a little different, because the last time really had not been her doing--not that this time was <em>either</em>, mind you.</p><p>"Alfred, could you please wait for a bit?" she groaned, but she knew he wouldn't listen.  When he got like this she was very tempted to leave him and the rest of her irritating adopted family.  She missed Finland. </p><p>"Katie," he whined, "I'm getting sick."</p><p>"God damn it, no you're <em>not!</em>"  She hated it when he pulled this one on her.  They were not physically vulnerable to the human aspects of addiction, therefore any "symptoms" of withdrawal he could have were entirely psychological.  And those were annoying enough because he always found her when he needed a hit.  Without fail.</p><p>Whingeing. </p><p>"Stop whining, Alfred.  It's <em>bugging</em> me," she snapped.  "And I <em>told</em> you about bugging me.  <em>Don't."</em></p><p>"Fine," he snapped back, throwing himself down on the other chair.  <em>"Fuck</em> you then."  He pouted at the brightening sky.  "Didn't sleep?"</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>"Thinking about them?"</p><p>Surprised, she turned to stare at him.  "No," she said, softly, feeling curiously light inside.  "I hadn't even, you know, considered it."</p><p>He raised his eyebrows.  "Well, what went down yesterday was pretty heavy," he reminded her.  "I was a little concerned for your safety."</p><p>She waved a hand dismissively.  "I was completely safe, and so is everyone else now, so it's all going beautifully."</p><p><em>"You're</em> beautiful."</p><p>She gritted her teeth.  "Alfred, that's <em>inappropriate."</em></p><p>He snorted.  "No it isn't.  Germany is not here, and even if he <em>was,</em> me telling you that you are beautiful <em>doesn't</em> mean that I'm trying to steal you away for my own nefarious purposes."</p><p>Rolling her eyes, she got up and prepared to go inside, but his hand shot out and he grabbed her arm.  She hadn't exactly forgotten how strong he was, but she hadn't expected him to do it, so her first instinct was to try to pull away, and when she couldn't, she began to panic. </p><p><em>"Don't</em> walk away from me when I am talking to you,  Kate," he said.  "It's <em>unbelievably</em> rude.  I only want to <em>thank</em> you, y'know?  For helping me to see."</p><p>"Oh, so <em>that's</em> what this is?" she challenged, unable--and also quite unwilling--to just let him think that he had any control over her.  He did not.  "Then I <em>suppose</em> you'd call what happened the other night 'being grateful that someone finally saw reason' ?  Or maybe--"</p><p>"That," Alfred snapped, tightening his grip on her arm, "is uncalled for.  Are you really so emotionally fucked that you can't acknowledge when someone appreciates you?"</p><p>She steeled herself and slowly but firmly pulled her arm from his grasp.  But now she was backed up against the railing and she didn't even have her coffee cup to use as a weapon if he tried that again. "Yes," she hissed, glaring at him.  "I <em>am</em> that fucked up, thank you for asking, <em>finally.</em>  Only took you almost a hundred and fifty years."</p><p>He shook his head.  "I had no reason not to assume that you were perfectly fine.  Russia...Ivan...never told me about any issues he had with you.  Neither did Tino," he added, using Finland's human name as well. "And you <em>seemed</em> normal."</p><p>"No," she insisted.  "You just didn't see."  She quickly sidestepped along the deck and nipped around him to the door.  "I didn't <em>want</em> you to see."  Before he could reach out to her again, and trap her with those damn puppy eyes, she shut the door on him.</p><p>Her morning was ruined. </p><p>It was <em>all his fault.</em></p><p>She almost wanted those imbeciles at Corrections to call her with the news that there had been another attempted riot, so she could beat the fuck out of someone.  She needed to hit someone and if Alfred didn't shut his fucking mouth it very well could be him. </p><p>She didn't <em>care</em> who he was.</p><p>She didn't care who any of them <em>thought</em> they were.  </p><p>But they would learn who they <em>really</em> were.  She would teach them. </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Oregon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Oregon sat on the back deck of her secret getaway and nursed her broken nose, which was healing much more quickly now that she was home.  She had fled to Klamath Falls as soon as she had awakened  the morning after her fight with Washington. </p><p>Washington, whose extremes were gradually becoming worse and worse.</p><p>Oregon wasn't entirely ignorant of her adopted sister's struggles with her mental health.  In fact they had traveled to Germany together at the height of Washington's last 'manic' episode, and only because of Oregon's diplomatic skills were they not kicked out of the airport as they waited for the plane.  During the flight she had had to endure Washington's constant frantic mood swings, going from nervous about seeing her old friend Southern Italy again to setting up the guy across the aisle for a hot sauce prank, whereafter she had the hardest time stifling her laughter, to being nearly unable to stay awake due to popping three Klonopin.  After they landed, she barely managed to get them to the Italies' place without an incident.  Oregon would only spend one night there before returning to the States, but it was just long enough to learn of Washington's very complicated and possibly dangerous plans to get Germany to notice her.</p><p>"First I had to get Alfred out of the way for a minute," she had said.  Unlike the rest of her siblings, Washington never called America 'dad' unless she was in one of her dark periods.  "Good thing he's kind of easy to fool when it comes to England!"  And in a gleeful voice she outlined the things she had planned.  It turned out that both Northern and Southern Italy were in on her plan.  Oregon had gone home a pile of nerves, worried that something would go terribly wrong and there would be an international incident. </p><p>But because it was Washington, she had gotten away with everything, with the help of her friends that now included Prussia and Denmark. </p><p><em>Maybe I should warn them,</em> Oregon thought.  It couldn't hurt, could it?  Then she brought her hand gingerly to her face.  It was <em>also</em> possible that one of them might mention to Washington that she had called to warn them about her.  That wouldn't be good at all.  It would mean not only an increasingly awkward situation in the family between long-time friends--Prussia and Denmark had known America since the beginning--but also an increase in the possibility that Washington would react violently again.</p><p>As for America, Oregon knew he was self-medicating again.  It was a familiar pattern of his.  He had done it during the Compromise of 1850, the Civil War, Reconstruction, 1873, 1900, The Great War, the Depression, the Russian-German conflict et cetera, all the way up til now.  Looking at it that way made her think that America was a straight up junkie, even if there were decades where he stayed relatively drug-free.</p><p>But this.</p><p>Her citizens had finally begun to calm down, but Oregon had been scared there, for a minute.  It was California who finally reminded her of the one thing she could be sure of in a time like this.</p><p>"After a few days, maybe a couple weeks, people will grow bored of it and move on to something more important, more vital.  This <em>always</em> happens, Daria.  It happens <em>every time</em> a minority person gets killed or beaten by a cop, whether or not it's justified.  I've been through this before.  I got through it then, I will now, and so will you."</p><p>It had taken a few days longer than expected, but things had indeed calmed down, slowly ebbing off until there was no more violence, either threatened or actual. </p><p>In Washington, however, the change had been swift and <em>very</em> jarring.  Almost overnight the cities were cleaned up and no more protests were reported.  But Oregon had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Washington wouldn't be able to sustain a constant state of martial law.  Oregon knew this.  As soon as she started going up again, if things hadn't already returned to normal, it would be a <em>disaster</em>.   Washington would deny ever authorizing anything, and would accuse America and whoever was unfortunate enough to be present of playing mind games with her.</p><p>Suddenly something dark and terrible occurred to her.  Something she hadn't much thought of these past eighty years or so.  She had been sitting on this very deck with Washington, and they had been having a perfectly good time, laughing and joking.  Washington had glanced down at a group of Chinese people using the Pacific Coast Trail.  "I know this doctor up in Aberdeen who treated a guy for jaundice a whole year before he finally figured out that the guy was a chink."</p><p>Oregon had laughed politely, but she hadn't found it very funny, nor had she been particularly thrilled when some of her citizens joined up with some of Washington's to create a gang of sorts, whose primary function seemed to be harassing people who were either Oriental or Black.  Still, she couldn't very well stop them doing it because it was a free country and you could say what you wanted about people.  She wasn't going to buy into the rumors that these people were slowly starting to get into much more serious things than name calling.  Of course they wouldn't actually <em>hurt</em> anyone.  She had a <em>reputation</em><strong>,</strong> one of being among the most tolerant of States.  Washington, though directly above her, did not have this reputation but Oregon didn't care.  As long as people saw her home as a friendly place, she could put up with her sister's intolerance. </p><p>For a while, it worked. </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Germany II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He hadn't quite known what to expect when he finally saw her, so he was relieved when she left Amerika's side as soon as she saw him walking across the tarmac.</p><p>"I'm sorry you can't stay long, Ludwig," she said.  Right away he noticed that she used his first name, not Germany,  and she didn't use her usual pet name for him, either. He also noticed something else: one of her pupils was larger than the other.  The grey color of her eyes was also darker than normal.  Could Russia be right about her?  Did she have a serious mental illness? </p><p>He thought of her behavior, especially over the past month and a half.  It had been no more intense than Prussia's ever was, though if you went back further there were the little hints, like punching him that day in the snow eighty years ago on account of a missed cup of coffee. And her abnormal energy levels.   But she had never hurt anyone out of malice,  had she? So how could she be dangerous? </p><p>"Alfred and I have had a lot to deal with this past week, and I don't have a lot of time to take it easy right now," she went on.  "But I'm glad you could come.   What does England need with Alfred?"</p><p>"He's worried,  Kate," Germany said, bluntly.   "He thinks maybe Alfred should lay off the dope for a while."</p><p>Washington scoffed. "Easier said than done,  Ludwig.   Your people developed that stuff and you know damn well he won't be able to just cut it out.  Besides,  it has made it easier for him to do what is necessary."</p><p>He cleared his throat.  "Yes, Kate,  about that.  Just how necessary was all that?"</p><p>Washington narrowed her eyes and gave him a sidelong look.  "What do you mean by 'all that'? It was all necessary,  Ludwig.  My citizens needed to be properly educated.  If the bleeding hearts had found out, all our hard work would have been for nothing.  And I don't like to waste my time,  or anyone's."</p><p>No, she definitely did not.  He managed to shove any doubts well into the back of his mind when she closed the door behind them and concentrated on him.  Was able to forget about the disturbing reports completely within the next five minutes.   An hour later he barely began to remember, and he was curious about a few things.  Most interestingly, she seemed not to be concerned about any lasting resentment from her citizens who remained. </p><p>"You will have to work very hard to get your citizens to love you again, if they ever find out what you have done to them," Germany warned her.  Washington sniffed derisively. </p><p>"It isn't important for them to love me, Ludwig.  I need them to fear me.  To fear me, because fear is stronger than love.  It rules every aspect of human life.  They are so fragile, and they're born knowing that they will die.  Yet, they all fear it.  Death."</p><p>"Of course," he shrugged.  "People have always feared what they don't quite understand."</p><p>"But we understand it, don't we? You and I  know,  Ludwig.   That death is the most beautiful part of life."  He could feel her eyes on him in the dark.  "And humans fear it above all else.  Fear is the most amazing emotion of all because it creates complete awareness. When you're afraid, it forces you to become completely  aware of your surroundings. It brings you to now, and that makes you truly present. And when you're truly present, that's nirvana. That's pure love.  So fear is pure love."</p><p>For a moment Germany could not breathe.  Her truth was smothering him.  Its dark threads sewing him up into a shroud of lies.  And at that moment he felt more alive than he ever had.</p><p>Truth. </p><p>"Always remember that, Ludwig.  They will love you through their fear of you.  Pure devotion comes from the sacrifice of the brave."  Washington's fingers twined around his, and he thought again how strong her grip was.  </p><p>"Kate, those people you disappeared," he began, remembering what Amerika had told him.  "How will you explain when people begin to question?  They will notice."</p><p>"Those people don't exist," she replied.  "They never existed."</p><p>He held her tightly against his chest, feeling her heart beating.  It was much slower than his.  "But there were so many of them," he insisted.  "Lying to the public will be very difficult with that many missing names."</p><p>"They aren't missing, Ludwig.  They don't exist.  They never existed," she repeated.  "As for the people,  if you tell them a lie, and tell it often enough and to enough people,  then it becomes the truth."</p><p>Of course,  she was right.  He marvelled at how intuitive she was to human nature.  He filed the information away in his brain for later, just in case someday he was faced with a similar situation.  With France having economic difficulties, he had been considering taking back the neglected province of Alsace-Lorraine.  After all, it was an important part of his own past, and if France couldn't properly maintain it, who better to take the reins than him? And if the people living there had issues with a change of governance,  it was best if he knew how to handle possible dissonance. </p><p>He would ask Prussia to handle the PR with France,  since their relationship was a little more cordial.  Maybe throw a little bit of untruth into the deal.  Over and over until it made perfect sense. </p><p>Francis,  I can't help but notice that you have been having difficulty with the maintenance of certain provinces.  I will gladly help you until things improve.  Francis, I can't help but notice.  Francis,  I will gladly help you until.  </p><p>Until. </p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. England II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"I want to thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedules to come across and see about our situation," Washington said, meeting each nation's gaze in turn.  England couldn't help feeling flustered at her glance.  Though she was probably the least sociable of all America's states, she often gave the presentation speeches at America's diplomatic engagements because of her ability to make you feel as if you were the only one in the room that mattered,  and she was speaking directly to you.  She had a certain velvety quality to her voice that grabbed your attention as soon as you heard it, even if you were in another room.</p><p>America had said it quite succinctly once, when someone asked him about his decision to use her: Washington could sell a hobby horse to a polar bear. You were convinced that whatever she was pitching was exactly what you had always wanted and could not live without.  You didn't know how you had ever lived without it.  And you knew that you needed it right then and there or you would die.</p><p>Not even five seconds in and England was willing to believe whatever she said.  </p><p>"It was not a decision that was made lightly,  most assuredly," she went on, and it seemed to England that her eyes stayed fixed on his just a few seconds longer than the others.  His heart gave an almost painful little leap, and he found that he couldn't look away. Not when she had that look in her eyes.  A look he knew well, having used it himself on three-quarters of the world during the height of his Empire.</p><p>You will worship me and swear only to me.  If I ask you to die, you say, 'Only for you'.</p><p>When he finally did manage to tear his gaze away, it was only because she turned to Russia and Germany,  the latter of whom already looked hypnotized.  Russia,  England noticed, was quite unfazedby her smoldering personality.  Unfazed  but not entirely unaffected. He kept breaking eye contact, then briefly glancing back up at her.</p><p>Gauging her.  </p><p>England tried to swallow and couldn't. </p><p>Washington stared at him.</p><p>A single bead of sweat rolled down his spine.</p><p>Though her face remained calm and open, England could see right through her facade to the fury that roiled beneath the surface.   No, she absolutely was not happy about this, but she would make the most of it.  Since they had come all that way.</p><p>As she talked she moved around the room, using her hands to illustrate points in her speech that were especially important.  But when she paused somewhere behind him, it took a lot of restraint not to twist around in his seat.  He would not show her that he was the least bit nervous.   He was a fucking pirate, for Christ's sake.  Pirates did not show hesitation or doubt.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye he saw Germany's eyes close.  Not asleep,  but completely relaxed just from listening to her talking.  At this point, America interjected with an invitation for them to tour the underground facilities.  Relieved,  he started to rise, but Washington's hands rested firmly on his shoulders,  and he froze.  Then, he cleared his throat. </p><p>"Ah, if you'll excuse me, America, but there's something I need to discuss with Washington," he managed to say.  Her hands relaxed just the tiniest bit, and her thumbs brushed against the back of his neck.</p><p>Good boy, now here's a nice bone </p><p>"I've always thought it was a shame that we never quite got on," she began, her eyes on the doorway and the retreating forms of the others.  Germany looked back once, and England saw the mistrust in his eyes.  Not at her, but at him.  He also saw the way his cousin's intimidating expression melted away when he met her gaze, because nobody could stare into those eyes and remain in control over their emotions. </p><p>And she knew it. </p><p>"Washington, you have no idea what you are really doing," he warned, his voice nearly cracking with the effort  to remain calm. </p><p>"Don't I? You're so smug, Arthur.  Can I call you Arthur?  Perfect.  Why have you been so shy all these years? I feel like you're avoiding me."</p><p>"Because I am," he snapped, finally pulling free of her hands.  But a very aware part of him knew he had only been able to get away from her touch because she let go.  "Because you can't fool me, Washington.  I know what you really are."</p><p>Her head tilted to the side and her face relaxed into a mirthful grin.  "Really now? And just what am I, O Great Empire?" She took two very deliberate steps towards him.  "It's a pity that they don't call you that anymore, innit?" He flinched,  briefly shutting his eyes.  "But they should,  the bastards.  After all, it's their fault." Her voice curled around him like a venomous ribbon, velvety and dark.  "They think you're prideful and vain, don't they? Oh, my yes.  But you've every right to be.  After all, you earned it."  Her warm breath against his neck,  his ear, made his chest ache.</p><p>No.  He must not even consider it.</p><p>"They think you're nearly finished," she went on, circling him like a dark eddy of water.  "Covetous, envying fools all."</p><p>"Stop," he managed to say, opening his eyes.  "Washington, I am ordering you.  Stop this madness and release those people!  Let your citizens live normally,  safely."</p><p>"What the fuck is normal, Arthur?" she snapped,  her tone sharpening into a dagger.  "There isn't anywhere safe anymore,  you delusional fairy! The Enemy is everywhere.  You just don't see, because they have tried to blind you.  Can't you understand?  I know you are better than they are.  I know that you should still be holding the world in your hands."</p><p>He let out a shaky breath and tried one last time.  "You won't get away with it.  You can't do this! "</p><p>"But I am getting away with it, Dread Pirate Arthur Kirkland," she murmured,  "and I am doing this.  Nothing can stop me. You say you know what I am? What about you,  then?" Her hands closed around his shoulders again, fingers spreading to his throat.   Not pressing on it, but just enough for him to realize that he had grievously underestimated her strength.  There was enough power in her hands to crush his windpipe. </p><p>"They've made the greatest Empire who ever existed believe that he is almost completely powerless," she went on.  "Tell me, Arthur.  You know what I am?  All right, so you just might.  But who are you? What makes you think that you are any different than me?"  She paused, then breathed in his ear, "How do you feel about India now?  You had it all, and that disgusting little vermin fucked it all up for you.  Made such a mess of everything.  And now...your beautiful home is full of his filth."</p><p>He shuddered.  But just the mention of his largest Asian former colony was enough to spike his heart rate.  He <em>had</em> had it all.  Then he started getting soft, and had indulged India's request for independence, certain that the inept imbecile would quickly crash and burn.  To his annoyance,  he hadn't,  but it had given England plenty of amusement watching him fuck up his people beyond repair.</p><p>"They're like a monkey wrench thrown into the gears of civilization, " Washington laughed.  "It must be so embarrassing for you to think that you had anything to do with that mess.  And now look at them," she added, ominously.  "Whole cities filled with them.  <em>English</em> cities.  How the mighty have fallen, Arthur.  They are destroying your great nation."</p><p>He had had enough.  "I am the fucking British Empire," he hissed, glaring at her.  "And I have <em>not</em> fallen!"</p><p>Washington looked chagrined.  "I only meant that, well...you're letting them overrun your country," she pointed out, her voice like morphine.  "Why haven't you done anything to protect yourself? Would you like to see Britannia turned into a half-breed?"</p><p>It was as if a massive surge of electrical energy rolled through him from his feet all the way to his brain.  His very vision turned white.  "I would never let my people become polluted with such filth," he growled.  "London has become a cesspool, and I will purify it, if it's the last thing I do!" Now he had said it, after so many years of supression and <em>it was all her fault.</em></p><p>Washington had made him admit the ugly truth and <em>he hated her for it.</em></p><p>He turned on her, and she was taken completely by surprise.  Dimly he registered the panic on her face as she realized that he wasn't going to let go of her arms, and he was not just pushing her but was nearly dragging her into the unused room next door, where he locked the door and made sure she understood, under no illusions, that he was much, much stronger than she was.  He didn't even feel  her struggling to free herself, because she couldn't,  so it was pointless for her to even try.</p><p>He was the fucking British Empire and he was a pirate, and he was making her pay for forcing him to admit the things that had been lurking below the surface.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Russia  II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He had to stop her.  Somehow,  he had to make her realize that she was not well.  It would not be easily done, because she was completely unaware of any other reality other than her present one at any given time.  When she went up, she completely forgot that it would end with a fatal crash.  And when she was in the depths, she never considered that it might improve.  As far as she was concerned,  this was the way it always was.  </p><p>He knew she wouldn't be able to last much longer.  Oh, physically,  she would endure.  He had no doubt about that.  He and Finland had both found her at about the same time,  and at that point she was already quite old, even though she looked like a baby.</p><p>Finland had told him about a myth he had heard once, about personifications who weren't 'poof' babies--they were connected to the land spirits, not their founding nations.  It turned out to be true. These sorts of personifications were rare, and they required special care, because they were not like the majority of the Nations and States.  They didn't have the deep ties to the people, and could be capable of terrible things if they felt threatened. But with time and patience they could be properly bonded to their people. An example of a success story was Denmark. Although he had been very cruel in his youth, he had grown into his potential for greatness.  Washington had turned out to be the exact opposite--she learned to tolerate her people, but she often hurt them without any real thought, with landslides, earthquakes, storms and floods, and when she was truly angry, volcanic eruptions.  During her major depressive phases of her illness, suicide rates skyrocketed.  On the flip side, when she was manic, her people were usually highly productive and energetically happy.  Russia supposed it made perfect sense that  two personifications that were fundamentally different from the rest would find each other and know that they were kindred spirits, so to speak.  So he had not really minded when Denmark came around to see what she was all about.  However,  when Prussia (another 'land' personification) showed up, Russia had been scared to death that she would feed off the Teutonic Knight's bloodlust, and she had.  During the first six years of the initial wave of German immigration,  her major cities were so violent that they achieved national recognition that for some turned into lasting notoriety.  To this day the coastal port of Aberdeen was known for it.  </p><p>But his daughter was sick.  She needed help, and nobody was willing to attempt an intervention.  They were all understandably terrified of what might happen.  With Amerika under the increasingly dangerous influence of both the heroin drug and the poison of Washington's hatred for humans she deemed 'untermenschen', it was not going to be an easy task.</p><p>"If you're paying attention," Amerika was saying,  now, "you can easily see that our facility is hardly overwhelmed by thugs we can't control.  All these cells are empty," he gestured.  "We had over two hundred...<em>guests</em>, at one point in the beginning,  but they have since been...transferred.  Unfortunately they were not redeemable," he sighed.  Russia felt his tongue shrivel in his mouth.  What did that mean?  He noticed Germany staring intently at the cell blocks,  perhaps studying them.  They looked similar to the military prison blocks in Nuremberg, where Russia had stayed for a while after his fight with Germany. </p><p>"Haha, so, Kate--Washington--got the inspiration for the design  of this place from Nuremberg," Amerika went on.  "I dunno if you remember that she was there with me.  Y'know,  it's one of the reasons I wanted to be here for her during this time.   She's always had my back when the others wrung their prissy little hands and cried that they didn't know what to do."</p><p>Russia bit his lip against the anger he now felt.  He had known Amerika for nearly his entire existence.  And he knew damn well that while many of them preferred not to get involved in violence, none of them were outright weak.  To hear Amerika speaking like that about his own children infuriated him. </p><p>"Amerika," Germany said suddenly,  "what is keeping England and Washington?"</p><p>Amerika stopped in mid-stride, hesitating. Russia saw his brow furrow and then smooth out, his face assuming an expression of careful neutrality.  "I'll be right back," he promised. </p><p>"Wait," Russia began, but Amerika was fast.  He disappeared down the corridor, and not five minutes later Russia heard a terrible commotion; several loud bangs, a crash, and shouting.  Amerika's voice was quite loud and carried back to them clearly. </p><p>"Arthur, what the fuck you think you are doing?  No," he roared, "you're not even.  Kate, can you move? Jesus, did you <em>cut</em> her, you sick bastard?"</p><p>Germany took off at a dead run.  Russia followed him, unsure what they would find.  Germany reached them a split second before he did, and all hell broke loose. As Russia burst through the door, England was flung across the room.  As he slammed into the wall, Amerika pleaded with Washington to tell him what happened, but she was silent. Germany had already helped her to her feet, but she was extremely unsteady.  Her viciously torn clothing left no doubt what had happened. </p><p>Russia wanted to tear England apart, starting with his cock.</p><p>"I'm going to kill you," Washington said, suddenly, calmly.  England no longer seemed quite so arrogant, Russia thought.  "You better leave."</p><p>The stunned, former British Empire shakily got to his feet.  At Washington's startling utterance,  he let out a bark of mocking laughter.  </p><p><em>"You!</em> Kill <em>me!</em> I'd like to see you try," he scoffed.  Russia wasn't even aware of his own movement until he was physically carrying England outside.</p><p>"Stop," he commanded, after they were a safe distance away. "England, you are not yourself! Stop provoking her!" He shook the smaller man roughly, hearing England's teeth clicking together.  "You don't know how much I hate you right now, but I will not have violence at my daughter's house.  Нет, England."</p><p>"Russia," England began, hoarsely.  "Ivan.  You don't understand.  She made me--she forced me to--to--"</p><p>"To admit that you are just as full of hate as anyone else?" Russia finished grimly. "What right does that give you to attack her?  You do realize that Amerika can retaliate?  Are you prepared for that?" </p><p>"He wouldn't do that--"</p><p>"You just attacked one of his most strategically important states while she is under duress," Russia pointed out, "one whose allies happen to be nations that don't particularly like your policies.  Germany will break your legs.  Prussia will break your skull.  And I will break your teeth."  His eyes narrowed.  "If you do not tell me the truth."</p><p>England stared at him.</p><p>"Did you finish?"</p><p>"I...what?"</p><p>Russia shook him again.  "Did. You. <em>Finish."</em></p><p>Realization dawned across England's face.  Along with something else that Russia recognized: smug, savage victory. </p><p>"Yes."</p><p>Russia saw red, then white-hot rage.  Seizing England by the shoulders, he propelled him forward,  towards the staircase door.  He could feel England resisting,  which made it difficult to get him to climb the stairs, but he was Russia and he was stronger than puny England.  Up they climbed, until they were on the roof.  The wind whipping across the Puget Sound nearly knocked England off his feet, but Russia held him tightly.</p><p>"What are you doing, you madman?" England shouted above the shriek of the wind.</p><p>"You hurt my daughter," Russia replied.  "I hurt you." He squeezed until he could feel bones grinding together. "You do not want it to be Amerika who hurts you.  He still has nuclear weapons. "</p><p>"So do you!"</p><p>"I've promised not to use mine," Russia said,  "and I keep my promises." He nudged the pitifully- struggling  England closer to the edge of the roof.  "You should have kept it in your pants."</p><p>Shoved. </p><p>England's screaming was twisted and carried far away on the wind.</p><p>Russia turned and walked away. </p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Oregon II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had hoped that her move back to Eugene would be uneventful,  and as far as her unruly citizens were concerned,  it was--they were only a little out of control and it took less than an hour to disperse the crowd.   When she was sure everything was settled down, Oregon finally checked her phone,  which had been buzzing nonstop for nearly twenty minutes. </p><p>"Clark," she muttered, seeing Idaho's number.  Fifteen texts?  Was he having trouble?  She supposed she could spare some Guardsmen. ...</p><p>Oh.</p><p>She stared at the texts, not fully comprehending.  England was here?  Why hadn't anyone told her? As his daughter she would have liked to know.  Why had he gone to Washington?  Didn't he know she was...a little insane right now? </p><p>Or was that the reason?   Oregon kept reading, and by the tenth text Idaho finally admitted that England was injured and in hospital. </p><p>Enraged, Oregon nearly crushed her phone in her hand.  It was the last fucking straw.  It had been bad enough when Washington had punched her, but it had happened before and she would get over it.  This,  however, was another matter entirely.  England was an ally and her papa.  He had never done anything to any of her family that would warrant Washington hurting him.  Idaho had not come right out and said that she had hurt him, but Oregon knew she must have, because why else wouldn't Washington tell her about it herself? </p><p>Enough was enough, she thought angrily.  She made up her mind at once--she was going up to see her Papa, and give her sister a piece of her mind.  She didn't care if it was dangerous.  A full-powered punch from Washington could potentially break her neck, but she was beyond caring.  This had gone far enough, and it was time to put a stop to Washington's madness.  Everyone always left her to it when she was on a rager, and it hadn't helped anything.  All it served to do was make the others afraid to actually get her help.   It was becoming worse and worse every time. </p><p>"Fuck!" The buzzing of her phone startled Oregon from her thoughts.   As she pulled her boots on, she answered it.  "Yeah.  Clark?"</p><p>"Daria, I hope you're not planning to race up there and kick Kate's ass," Idaho warned.</p><p>Oregon paused, looking at herself in the window reflection.  I look crazy, she thought.  "I'm considering it," she admitted. </p><p>"Don't do it, Dar," he insisted.  "You know she's sick.  Nobody's acting right.  Dad's nearly as bad as she is.  He's been nodded out since they got to the hospital.  I'm there now," he added.  "Germany called me, since I'm second closest.  Uh, I guess you guys fought again?" </p><p>Sighing,  Oregon touched the bridge of her nose.  It was healed now, but there was a bump there.  She didn't know if it would be permanent. "A little," she admitted.  "I mean, she broke my nose.  It's not like we traded punches."</p><p>"Yeah, well, I'm just gonna warn you, it's weird up here," Idaho informed her.  "She's amended the order for martial law, so it's not total anymore,  but you're still gonna have to go through checkpoints to get into Washington and the cities."</p><p>"Wait a minute.  She set up a checkpoint at our border?" Oregon exclaimed.  "I wasn't notified!"</p><p>"Course you weren't," Idaho said.  "You'd have gotten suspicious. Listen, I gotta go.  Russia and Germany are having trouble calming Katie down.  I guess she's tried to sneak away a couple times."</p><p>Oregon shook her head in disbelief.   "Why are they here?" she wondered.</p><p>"Daria,  I have to go.  I'll meet you in the lobby when you get here."</p><p>Click</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. America III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He knew it was getting out of hand.   America was painfully aware of the fact that he was loaded more often than not these days,  but the alternative was worse.  He tried to stay focused on England's prone form, lying bruised and broken in the hospital bed.  </p><p>America couldn't believe it.  Out of all the things that could possibly have happened, England had fallen from the seven-story roof.  America didn't know why he'd been up there--either he'd gone up there to escape from an angry Russia or he'd gotten disoriented.   After all, the entire situation was just so weird.  Kate still had not told him what had happened,  but Germany seemed convinced that England had done far more than just smack her around.  Personally,  America suspected that England had actually raped her, but until he came out of his Dilaudid coma, he couldn't tell anyone anything. </p><p>He sighed.  Russia had been very close-lipped about it, but America knew England had told him something about what happened.  Shifting in his chair, he wished for a shot.  Loud voices in the hallway outside England's room got his attention. </p><p>"Why is Papa in the hospital?  What the fuck did you do to him, you lunatic?"</p><p>There was the unmistakable sound of a fist striking flesh, and Oregon cried out. "You fucking bitch!" Washington shouted, as security came running.   America got up quickly and pulled Oregon away from Washington,  who would have waded in for more if Germany and Russia had not been there.</p><p>"Not right now, Kate, and not that way," he said firmly as he guided Oregon into England's room. He saw with dismay that Oregon's nose was bleeding again.</p><p>"She better shut up," Washington snapped, from the circle of Russia's arms.  She began to struggle. "She fucking better!"</p><p>"Нет, дочь. Calm yourself," Russia commanded, tightening his grip.  "Germaniya,  help me."</p><p>"I...hate you," Washington panted, glaring at Oregon through the doorway.  "If you come at me again I'll cut your fucking throat!"</p><p>Germany slapped her then, getting his whole arm into it. "You fool, what do you think you are doing,  threatening her in public like that?" he hissed.  He flinched  at the venomous look she gave him.  America  also cringed.  "You don't know who might be lurking around here listening!"</p><p>She gradually grew still, but she didn't take her eyes from him. America quickly shut the door, but he heard her reply quite clearly. </p><p>"I don't fucking care who's listening.  I'll kill them too.  And if you ever strike me again, you can add yourself to that list."</p><p>"Oh my God, Daddy," Oregon whispered, as she desperately tried to stop her nosebleed.  "What happened to Papa?"</p><p>I'm going to lose my mind, America thought.  Yep. Here it goes.  "He had a horrible accident,  Daria.  Washington didn't do this," he added, looking her in the eyes.  "I want you to understand that right now.  She didn't do anything to him.  I don't want you running around here accusing people of things that you don't know about." Outside the door, Washington's voice rose again and Russia's answered. </p><p>"Uh oh," America sighed.  "They're both speaking Russian now.  Kate is pissed."</p><p>Oregon sat down in the chair he had occupied before her arrival.  "Do you know how it happened? Was he on the roof? Clark said he was on the roof. Why would he be up there?"</p><p>"Daria," America began, "I don't think you're going to like what I have to tell you." He reached out and took one of her hands.  "England didn't just fall.  He--"</p><p>Before he could finsh, Oregon cut him off.  "He wouldn't jump!"</p><p>"Daria, he--"</p><p>Russia opened the door then, without knocking.  "Privyet, Oregon," he said, looking as if he'd just gone rounds with a bear.  "Amerika, Washington would like a word."</p><p>"But--"</p><p>"Go," Russia said, firmly.  "I will stay here and tell her."</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Washington III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was raining again.   It had rained nearly every day and night since England had attacked her, but this time there was accompanying lightning and thunder.  Washington didn't mind it.  After the day she had had, all she wanted was to overdose on dope and die every day for the next five years.  </p><p>Unfortunately Germany was here and he'd hidden all her dope, so she had to make do with an old bottle of laudanum she'd found stashed away in her cellar cupboard.  So far it was working, but she could still hear America yelling at Russia and Germany in the house.</p><p>America was pissed at her again, now that he couldn't get loaded, and she could honestly say that she didn't give a fuck.  Here she was, with the least amount of riots and violence out of <em>all</em> her stupid family and he was worried about England's well-earned brain injury? She hoped that cretin never woke up.  And as for Oregon,  she would beat her face in completely if she tried coming at her again. Fuck her nose.  Oregon's whole <em>face</em> would be broken.  </p><p>Her hand tightened around the bottle of laudanum.  And fuck <em>Germany</em> for taking her dope!  The bottle began to crack just the tiniest bit.  If she didn't love him so fucking much she'd kill him for doing that.  Now America was sober, and supposedly <em>thinking clearly,</em>  whatever the fuck that meant.  It seemed to her that his critical thinking skills were even worse now that he was under the influence of everyone else. </p><p>She took another pull of laudanum and finally felt herself begin to float.  The laudanum tasted vile, and it was probably strong enough for the amount she had just swallowed to kill a grown man, but it was only just starting to kick in.  Felt nice. Now if they would just shut the fuck up in there. What had she come out here to do again?  Oh, right. Denmark had texted her quite a few times since the mess with idiot England, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to answer him.  She didn't want to tell him what England had done to her.  While it could be a good thing,  since Denmark would then be furious with England and then all his Nordic family would also be pissed, Washington knew that would only cause worse problems than could be solved by anyone. </p><p>Fucking hell, she wanted a shot.   Laudanum always made her feel too swimmy, because of the alcohol.  She liked to be more in control of herself.  Her behavior at the hospital this afternoon had been mortifying, and the fact that there had been witnesses made it even worse.  She had never lost control of her temper like that. </p><p>Fucking Germany.  Who the fuck did he think he was, putting his hands on her like that? Did he really think that just because they were intimate with each other, he could smack her around if he felt like it?  Oh, no no no.  There would be none of that. She had already made it clear to him that she hadn't yet forgiven him, and just to be sure that he got the message,  she was going to sleep out here on the deck.  </p><p>The storm began to quiet down, and the noise indoors also calmed a bit.  Russia had told Oregon the truth about what had happened, and she had come back to the house with them even though Washington was still angry with her.  Maybe Oregon and Germany could hang out and leave her the fuck alone for the rest of her damn life. </p><p>She sighed.  No, that wouldn't do.  She loved Germany,  but his actions had consequences that he had to deal with.  He had to learn that he could not hit her. It wouldn't be long before he apologized.  Whenever she happened to catch his eye when she looked in the window, he visibly cowered from her gaze.  Oh, she knew she looked mad. She was mad. Just not as much as it might seem.</p><p>It didn't help that she was beginning to miss her two best good close friends. </p><p>A shadow stretched across the deck.  Without turning around, she asked,  "Yes, what is it, Alfred."</p><p>He let out a nervous laugh.  "How did you know it's me?"</p><p>She smirked. "You smell like spring water and apple cider.  Nobody else smells like that." Now she looked at him.  "What?"</p><p>"Oh." He rubbed the back of her neck.  "I, uh, thought it might be best if maybe everyone cleared out for a night.  They can stay at my place on Capitol Hill."</p><p>"Yes," she said without hesitation.  His hand paused in its movement, lingering.  There was an unspoken question in the touch.  "I was going to sleep out here, but if you all are leaving,  I'll be okay."</p><p>He cleared his throat.  "Actually,  I was going to just give Ivan my keys.  I want to stay here.  I'm going to have to be heading out to Minnesota in a day or two, and a few of your other siblings need help too.  So I just want to be here with you until I have to leave."</p><p>Washington sighed, closing her eyes. In relief or exasperation she couldn't tell, but she supposed it didn't really matter.  After all, he was the boss of her, as much as it pained her to admit that she even answered to anyone.  He was also stronger than England and if he wanted to overpower her it would take no effort at all.  She really hadn't wanted to be alone, but America tended to get annoying rather quickly.  She would have to set up an escape plan so that she could sneak away when he got on her nerves.</p><p>Grudgingly she told Germany that she would see him tomorrow,  and she let Oregon hug her, but just for a brief moment.  Russia was the only one she really wanted to touch at that point, but he knew her well enough to keep it short and sweet.  As they left, Washington watched them as Russia's rental car got smaller and smaller. </p><p>Finally. </p><p>"Aww, Katie, poor Germany looked like a kicked puppy," America said, and her eye twitched.</p><p>Well, almost finally. </p><p>"Look, it's his own fault," Washington said.  She patted her pockets down and frowned slightly.  "He shouldn't have slapped me.  Hey, I can't find my phone.  It might've been in Russia's car, but can I borrow yours? I wanted to text Denmark."</p><p>"Yeah.  Hey, d'ya think Germany might be a little bit weird the way he tried to take all your dope away?" America wondered.  "I totally get why you're so upset with him.  I mean, besides the fact that he hit you.  Very uncool, I might add.  I would never hurt you like that," he added.  "Germany should apologize to you if he ever wants to hit something else, know what I mean?"</p><p>Washington clenched her teeth and glared at him.  "Alfred, do you remember the whole bugging me thing that we talked about?  You're doing it again," she warned him.  </p><p>Laughing, he moved the other chair so that it was right next to hers.  She hissed to herself as he sat down, so close to her that their arms were smashed together.  "Oh, whoops," he said,  not sounding surprised at all.  "Guess I'd better move my arm."  She tried to get up and leave right then, but she was too stoned off the laudanum to even move.  She was trapped there as he stretched his arm and then put it around her shoulders as if they were at the movies. </p><p>"Damn you," she muttered.  "Get off."</p><p>He gave her an oddly speculative look, as if he were seeing her for the first time.  "Now is that any way to talk to your hero and savior Alfred Jones?"</p><p>"Oh, stop with that hero bullshit," Washington groused.  "Seriously,  Alfred. You're smothering me.  Oh, to hell with it," she exclaimed, when she was unable to get out of his grasp.  "Why don't you just jump down my fucking throat and get it over with?"  Then it suddenly occurred to her what he'd said.  "Wait a minute, what do you mean the way Germany <em>tried</em> to take all my dope away?"</p><p>"This is where the hero comes in, " America said, gloating. </p><p>"Well? What?"</p><p>His gloating was infuriating.  Washington wanted to punch him, but she was too drunk to make a good fist.  "First you have to promise that you won't kick me out of bed in the middle of the night," he insisted as he fished something from his pocket. She knew what it was immediately. </p><p>"It's already the middle of the night and I'm about to smack you right out that chair of yours," she informed him.  "Oh, all <em>right</em>, damn you.  Gimme that dope."</p><p>Being taller, he held it just out of her reach. "And you have to let me cuddle you afterwards," he added.</p><p>She hated him.  "No! You're lucky to even get any. You're going to do it and get off me and go to sleep immediately after and you're not going to be all cuddly or want to talk!  Now give it here!"</p><p>"Fifteen minutes," he wheedled.  Angrily she shook her head.  "Ten minutes. Five," he insisted.  "Look, Katie, I can't just wham-bam you. It's not right unless we cuddle.  What am I, a douchebag?"</p><p><em>Yes</em> she wanted to say, but didn't open her mouth for fear of the things that she might actually say. When she was drunk like this she got surly and would pick a fight with a badger if she saw one. She bit her lip as she thought of that time she'd actually done that.  She'd had to have stitches in her cheek after it had scratched her, but she'd gotten even.  She had picked it up by its hind leg and had tossed it into the middle of Lake Roosevelt. </p><p>Speaking of being picked up...</p><p>"Alfred! Put me down," she tried to say, but it came out sounding more like <em>plow</em>. He laughed.</p><p>"Whatever you say," he said cheerfully.  He let go, but luckily he'd already gotten to her room, so she landed on her bed.  The entire room spun around her, but America was completely still and in perfect focus.  He always was.  </p><p>She hated this, but she had learned a long time ago not to fight him, so she simply endured the humiliation and waited for him to finish.  It wasn't violent anymore at least, and this time he seemed to be trying to be accommodating because  even if she'd never admit it, to anyone, ever, it wasn't terrible.  He wasn't as graceful as Germany or Prussia and he didn't have the mad skills at getting her off first like Denmark,  but he was at least considerate of her. Oh, he wouldn't stop in the middle of things if he noticed that she was crying,  but he would ask her if she was all right once he was finished. Unless he was completely hammered.</p><p>Because of the heroin it took him ten times longer than normal to get off, and by that time she just wanted to go to sleep and forget her whole life,  but she had promised that she would cuddle with him.  This was the worst part of all. Stupid feelings always happened.  Sometimes he would pet her hair and that made it ten times better--no, <em>worse</em>.  But tonight he seemed content to merely lie still at her side, so she allowed herself to put her head on his shoulder. Now if he could stay quiet...</p><p>"Kate," he whispered.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>.  "What?"</p><p>"Remember that one time when you got into a fight with a badger?"</p><p>Goddamn it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Germany III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Under normal circumstances,  he would never be making this phone call.  It went against everything that he held dear.  But it was the only way,  and he had to accept it.  If he wanted <em>his</em> Washington back, he had to do it.  And although she was teaching him a great deal, he had to be honest with himself (another of her valuable lessons--lying to others was acceptable, but lying to oneself was not) and admit that she was much more fun in bed when she wasn't being dark and terrifying. Oh, she was still fun, but he didn't necessarily want to have to remember what she said to him afterwards. There were times when he just wanted to chill with her and she simply couldn't. But there was another, more important reason: he knew that she couldn't continue like this for much longer before something even worse happened than what had gone on with England. </p><p>Oh, he had <em>plans</em> for England.  Though he claimed to not remember anything about his assault on Washington,  Germany knew that was a lie.  And England thought that he would just be able to get away with what he'd done by feigning amnesia?  Oh, my, no.  Germany knew better.  </p><p>England would pay. And he'd make sure it <em>hurt</em>. </p><p>But that would have to wait.  For now,  he had to concentrate on helping Washington, because unless she snapped out of her downward spiral, she would destroy her citizens in no time, and even if they deserved to be destroyed, the powers that dictated world affairs would issue a decree stating that she would have to be punished. </p><p>He would not allow that.</p><p>After all, she was only doing what she needed to in order to keep them safe, and if they fought against it in their ignorance, that simply could not be helped. </p><p>He needed her to be at his back when he finally took back what the others had neglected to care for after promising to do so.  If she were supporting him, then America would also.  And with America on his side he would definitely succeed.</p><p>Germany knew that he was stalling.  He simply didn't want to have to do this.  If he could get it done by having Italy or his brother make the call for him, he would've done that, but it wasn't in his nature to delegate important tasks.  Washington didn't need to teach him that, at least.  </p><p>No, Germany would have to phone Denmark himself. </p><p>Gritting his teeth,  he dialed the number, hoping Washington wouldn't suddenly notice that he had taken her phone.  Denmark probably wouldn't have answered if it was Germany's number on his screen, so using Washington's phone was his only option.  The damned Viking was still pining after her and would answer a call from her in a flash.</p><p>And he did.</p><p>"Kate, hvordan går det? Har du det godt?" He sounded genuinely worried.  Of course he was. Germany knew that Denmark truly was her friend.  "Er du sikkert?"</p><p>"Denmark,  it is Germany," he said, before he could change his mind and hang up.  "I am using her phone to call you."</p><p>"What happened?" Denmark demanded.  "Prussia told me something bad happened to her.  Who hurt her?"</p><p>Germany hissed through his teeth. "That's not why I'm calling," he admitted.  "I mean, it's part of the reason,  but I'm really calling because this can't continue with her.  I know you've been paying attention," he added. </p><p>"I want to know who hurt her," Denmark insisted. </p><p>Germany clenched his jaw.  "I need you to get mein Bruder and come out here," he said.  "She needs her friends.  You're the best ones she has."</p><p>"What is going on, Tyskland?" Denmark demanded.  "You are not giving me orders until you tell me what happened.  If you don't, I'll ask her myself, after I tell her about what you've been up to behind the scenes with Prussia.  Oh, I know all about it," he added.  "Your brother can't keep his mouth shut.  France is freaking out, by the way."</p><p>"Let me deal with that," Germany said.  "Herr England took advantage of her, and she's getting worse.  Amerika is no help," he added.  "Now, I am not completely unaware of your...<em>attraction</em> to her, but I do trust you.  You and mein Bruder are her closest friends.  She needs you now more than ever.  You can bring her out of this darkness of hers."  He paused.  "She's been giving Amerika heroin."</p><p>"What, again?" Denmark sighed.  "They've done this before.   He likes  to self-medicate.  England, huh?  Stodder," he muttered.  "Okay, I'll get hold of Prussia...why didn't <em>you</em> call him?"</p><p>"I can't risk anyone listening in," Germany informed him.  "England's boss is getting suspicious of me, and if anyone found out that America can't control his own children, it would have unfortunate consequences."  He narrowed his eyes as he thought of the possibility.  "Now, I need to return home after you arrive,  so you better keep your hands to yourself,"  he warned.</p><p>"Whatever, Tyskland," Denmark scoffed.  "I'll do what I want.  But you're right.  She's my friend and I'll do anything to help her.  I'll be there by morning, with your brother," he added. </p><p>Denmark  rang off, and Germany stared thoughtfully out the window.  Amerika's apartment was in a high-rise with two walls of windows and he had an impressive view of the city from one side and the Olympic Mountains from the other.  It was beautiful here and you couldn't tell about anything wrong just by looking.  It wasn't until you tried to go anywhere that you noticed the soldiers everywhere.  They were conspicuous, especially when paired with beat cops.  These usually also had dogs with them, dogs originating from his country.  He felt smug about that particular fact--the police dogs were German Shepherds, not Great Danes.  He'd always thought that was a stupid name for one of his own dog breeds. </p><p>Well, <em>most</em> of them were German Shepherds, anyway.  Maybe two or three were Great Danes.  At least they weren't really from Denmark. </p><p>Goddamn Denmark, he thought.   He had better keep his hands to himself.   Or he just might find himself in a precarious situation. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. America IV</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They always said heroin was better than sex.</p>
<p>America thought she was better than heroin. </p>
<p>Washington was not his only adopted state, but she was the only one he had never been able to truly call 'his'.  For this reason he sought to physically possess her every chance he got in an attempt to change that.  In the beginning,  it was a nightmare for both of them.  Russia and Finland had not particularly wanted him to have her, but he hadn't given either of them much choice.  </p>
<p>"Amerika, you do not understand what it is you will be getting involved with," Finland had warned him.  "You cannot see all of her with just your eyes."</p>
<p>"What are you talking about?  She's beautiful.  I want her," America had replied.   And so he had gotten what he wanted, and a whole lot more.  Before he'd made the deal with her parents,  he had only watched her from a distance, and now he was approaching her and she was staring at him as if he were an insect.  Warily she kept him at arms length, but by the time he reached out to grasp her hand, she knew--he could see the angry resignation in her eyes.  She let him take her hand, gauging her strength,  she must have known, because she held back.  He would not realize how strong she was until he had her pinned to the mattress. </p>
<p>The first time, she had fought hard, kicking and screaming. It only made him want her more.  Even when she viciously head-butted him, chipping his front tooth--it had never quite grown back in the same, either--he was not deterred.  But when he finally forced her open and buried himself inside of her, he was met with a jarring shock: she was no maiden.  </p>
<p>"What are you, stupid?" she had asked him, once he let her pull away from him.  She would not cuddle him willingly,  so he grabbed her and held her.  She practically growled, and for a moment he thought she might try to bite his hand.  "Who's been settling here?  Your citizens are barely here yet.  But look on the map.  What are the homestead  names?"</p>
<p>Håkansen, Wiese, Bingen, Hofstadter, Skansen, Jemtegård.  America stared at a spot on her neck.  It looked as if someone had bitten her, leaving a perfect bite-scar.  If she had been a virgin when he took her to his bed he would have done it himself.  "So who was it then?  Prussia or Denmark?"</p>
<p>"Denmark."</p>
<p>He had tightened his grip on her, enjoying her growing discomfort as he slowly began to crush her.  "I hope you don't think that I will allow you to continue seeing him," he said, "at least, not until we get to know each other better.  I'm sorry, but I just can't share you with any other nations yet."</p>
<p>"Fuck you," she had whispered in his ear.  "I hate you.  I will never love you."</p>
<p>Over the next hundred years he had gradually worn her down to the point where she no longer gave him a fight when he wanted to be intimate, but it had taken an obscenely long time.  At first, he had not particularly cared whether or not she enjoyed it, but in 1917 a chance meeting with Denmark during the war with Austria-Hungary changed his mind.</p>
<p>"You know, Amerika, you will get a lot more satisfaction with her if she enjoys it too," he had remarked, when Amerika mentioned how resistant she was.  "I can't believe you don't know this. Why do you think a quarter of her people still speak Danish?  I haven't even seen her since you took her from Fin." </p>
<p>He had not really noticed, but now he paid attention.  Her citizens did still speak their ancestral languages.  There were still German and Danish newspapers published in Seattle.  And she was growing fast.  The more she grew, the more he wanted her, but while they were in Europe fighting with Austria-Hungary a terrifying thing happened.  Washington  and New York were tasked with the unfortunate objective to take the Belleau Wood and both of them were nearly taken out by the enemy.  New York later told him that when she had laid eyes on Austria, her anger at their enemies dissipated immediately.   She grew cold and still, glaring at him from her nest.  Then, she had crept out, silently commanding her troops to follow her.  Unable to disobey, they had.  Washington had met Austria head on and had cut his throat, staring straight into his eyes, and for the first time, his war machine faltered. </p>
<p>"She looked dead inside," New York had said.  "She walked right up on him and just stuck her knife right in his neck. Like she were gutting a fish, you know? And then she dragged him over to where his men could see him.  And just dropped him."</p>
<p>Austria would not remember this after his return to life, for which America was eternally grateful.  But for nearly eight weeks afterwards she had terrorized the  Central Powers with stealthy sneak attacks, taunting them, and when America met with her after the armistice, she had, for the very first time, willingly gone to him.  And he had seen her empty eyes for himself.  It was the first time that he began to truly believe something was wrong with her.  He knew that when Seattle had burned forty years earlier,  she had not really cared much, which he had found odd.  But he shrugged it off because she recovered so quickly from that and everything else that happened to her.  For some reason things that would have devastated the others just didn't seem to affect her the same way.  She also tended to isolate herself more than her siblings.  And she had been extremely annoyed when they had to go up against Austria-Hungary.  She had threatened to run away with Prussia, but he had soundly punished her and she didn't speak to him for months.  So when she had appeared in his camp the night of the armistice, he had been surprised.  And eager, he was not ashamed to admit.  But then he made the mistake of staring into her eyes.  She was staring back but he could instantly tell she was not looking at him.  But he was unable  to stop and she was so fucking perfect and tight and he nearly screamed when he came.  She didn't push him away and she let him kiss on her, but he could feel something coiled up, tense and waiting, every time he did.  When he drifted off to sleep she was still cuddled up against him and he thought with giddy joy that maybe she was finally accepting him, but then he woke up a few hours later and he knew right away that she hadn't. </p>
<p>She stood at the side of the bed, staring down at him with dead doll eyes.  Slowly he became more awake and aware of cold steel on his skin.  In panic he realized that she had tied him to the rungs of his bunk.  </p>
<p>"Denmark taught me how to tie those knots, so don't even bother trying to get em loose," she had said, calmly.  "Hold still.  I just want to--Alfred.  Can you not struggle,  please?  It's just a buck knife.  It won't hurt that much.  Hold still, or I'll mess it up," she murmured.  He lay there and trembled in terror--he, the newly powerful America, trembling like a scared child!--as she took the blade to his skin and carved her name deeply into his chest, directly over his heart.  A small part of him was intensely aroused by this, but the rest of him was scared to death.  What the fuck was wrong with her?  he wondered frantically.  When she finished, she looked into his eyes again and smiled.</p>
<p>"I know you were mad about Denmark," she had offered as an explanation.  "So I thought I'd mark you instead.  You know, to prove that I'm one of your states."</p>
<p>She was insane, he realized then.  That was what Finland had been trying to warn him of.  But he had been selfish and shortsighted and he had not been listening.  She didn't put the knife down.  </p>
<p>She still didn't love him.</p>
<p>He knew, watching her now in restless sleep, that she likely never would.  She was no more capable of it than he was of walking away from an opportunity to prove himself.  And it wasn't her fault.  Now he knew.  </p>
<p>Russia had told him the truth.  She was sick and needed help.  God, he should have seen the signs years ago, he thought. He almost felt guilty for taking advantage of her during this depression of hers.</p>
<p>Almost. </p>
<p>"Alfred," she muttered, and he jumped.  He had not noticed that she was awake.  Had she even slept? "Stop."</p>
<p>He sighed as she wriggled away from him.  But before she could roll onto her side, it occurred to him what she had been calling him.  Not 'Dad', as she tended to do during her low points, but Alfred.  Could it be, he wondered,  that she was getting ready to go up again?  </p>
<p>"Stop, I said," she growled as he touched her back.  He didn't move his hand away, but he lightened his touch a bit, and she slowly relaxed. </p>
<p>"I don't want to hurt you," he murmured.  "I never meant to hurt you."</p>
<p>"Fine," she snapped.  "Shut up."  She turned her head and glared at him, but she still didn't move away from his touch.  "Go to sleep, would you?"</p>
<p>He didn't.  He waited until she was breathing deeply and regularly and then he got up and went into the kitchen.  She kept the best dope in a little box in her pantry, he knew.  Germany had taken all of the heroin he could find in the house, but he had not looked here.  America had promised Idaho and Oregon that he'd ease up on the dope, but the truth was, he didn't want to.  He loved the way it made him feel.  In his opinion, everyone should feel like that all the time.  Well,  if Washington was coming out of her cherry-colored funk, she wouldn't be using any dope.  She was frenetic and passionate and full of a rage to live when she was on the upswing.  If she wasn't going to use it, he might as well.</p>
<p>Bliss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Denmark I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the plane had landed, Denmark and Prussia had split up; Prussia went to meet with Germany and Denmark went immediately to Washington's house.  She had sensed him, but was still surprised to actually see him.  When she opened her front door,  he saw the bruise on her cheekbone and eye and nearly screamed in rage.  She saw the fury in his face and quickly shut the door behind him.  Almost instantly he was pulling her to him, kissing her poor bruised eye, her cheekbone, her eye again...and as he did he suddenly understood why it had not yet healed. He could taste the deepening chaos on her skin, and knew she was probably nearing the end, which would more than likely be horrific to witness unless she got help. He could also see that this injury was not from England.   For one thing, it was on the wrong side of her face.  England tended to lead with his left when he fought, but it was her left eye and cheek that were injured.  And the hand print was too large to be England's. </p><p>"Who hit you?" he demanded, forcing her to meet his gaze.  He would know if she lied, and she knew he would know,  so he hoped she would not insult his intelligence and try.  "Kate, England didn't hit you.  He doesn't hit like that.   Who was it?  Did Amerika do it?"</p><p>"No!" she exclaimed.  "He's never struck me.  He wouldn't."</p><p>He sat her down on the couch, examining her injury more closely.  "Well, someone did.  So who?" She didn't look away, but he could sense a barrier going up, and he refused to allow it. "Kate, kære, I want to help you," he said, firmly.  "And that includes making the people who hurt you pay."</p><p>She sighed deeply and turned her head slightly.  He frowned, seeing for the first time that she had not been sleeping well.  The nearly desperate energy he had felt while driving through the very military city was hers.  She was definitely on her way to a violent crash.  He had seen it once before, shortly after he had first met her.  In all the years he had known her, she had never frightened him.  He was very aware of her issues--he could handle the worst of it.   What he couldn't handle was seeing his best good close friend hurting. </p><p>"I don't want to say it out loud," she said finally. </p><p>His heart pounded ominously.  "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, and for the first time in over a century he brought his hand to the old bite on her neck, his thumb rubbing gently, marvelling that the marks were still so perfect and precise. "I might not be able to stop."</p><p>"It has to be this way," Washington said, sounding less like she regretted it and more like she had been waiting for it.  He nodded, closing his eyes, and brought their foreheads together.  Before he could talk himself out of it, he  kissed her, tasting the familiar rain on her tongue but also getting other information from it, such as Amerika's own taste of apples, England's faint trace of Earl Grey and Tyskland's scent of cloves.  This particular scent had a sharpness to it that Amerika's apple taste did not.</p><p>Tyskland. </p><p>Tyskland  had struck her.  </p><p>The rage intensifed and he was filled with a white-hot desire to hack the smug bastard into bloody bits and feed those bits to a rabid wolverine.  After all that bullshit about being <em>concerned for her safety</em>, and <em>having reservations</em> about his, <em>Denmark's</em>, feelings for her; this was simply too fucking perfect.  The bastard had struck his kære and he would have to pay.</p><p>Something warm tickled the corner of his mouth and he realized that she was crying.  Her eyes were closed and she was still kissing him but the tears were silent and louder than bombs.</p><p>
  <em>I would never hurt you, Jesus how could he hurt you and I can't stop now I'm sorry but I can't be sorry </em>
</p><p>He knew it was possible that Prussia might be able to sense what he was doing, what <em>they</em> were doing, but he just didn't care anymore.  All he cared about was that he needed to feel her from the inside, that rush of absolute ecstasy that was just like coming home. He wanted to obliterate all the traces of the others on her.  She was not theirs.  They did not deserve her.  They had all hurt her, using her vulnerability to their sick advantage when all <em>he</em> had done was love her.  </p><p>"I can't stop," he whispered finally,  unable to help himself.  She didn't answer,  but she opened her eyes and looked at him and he knew that she knew.  And oh fucking hell yes, she was even more perfect than he remembered.  <em>Why</em> she had decided to pursue that blockhead Tyskland when <em>he</em> was right there was beyond him.  All she had to do was look and see that he had never not wanted her.  And now he would prove it.  He was too tall for lying on her couch so she sat up and he took her that way; she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him deeply into her and his eyes rolled back in his head and he never wanted to stop; her fingernails dug into his flesh as her body arched against his; he was good at this and he knew it, and at that moment nothing mattered but her.  Nothing existed but them.  Their eyes locked.  It was as if the past two centuries had not happened and they had never been apart.  He could clearly see what it might have been like if he had been the one to assume responsibility for her instead of Amerika. He would have treated her so well that independence would never even come to mind. He could have used her valuable resources to eliminate the upstart Tyskland.</p><p>He could feel her tightening around him and finally she couldn't help it and she screamed at the ceiling.  His orgasm ripped through him and at the same moment he bit down into the old scar he had made, his teeth fitting perfectly in place, sinking in to the gums.</p><p>"Elskede," he murmured against the bleeding bite, "min elskede."</p><p>She curled her hand into his hair.   "Jeg har altid været din," she whispered back. </p><p>For the first time in nearly two weeks, she slept.</p><p>And that was how Prussia found them a few hours later.</p><p>He at least had the decency to wait until they woke up before announcing his presence, but Denmark knew he was in the house and so did she.  </p><p>"Oh, shit," Prussia exclaimed from the kitchen when they finally began to move, "it finally happened.  I was getting tired of waiting.  Get dressed, you guys," he added, not at all upset by the situation.  "I wanted to go down to the beach."</p><p>Neither of them particularly wanted to move, but she finally began to leak and he realized that he was still buried inside of her.  The many upsides to being hung like a fucking racehorse included not needing to be completely hard to stay inside her, but the downside was that very thing: his own come would leak out of her and make things very messy.</p><p>"Shower, Gil," he threw over his shoulder as he and Washington raced upstairs before the mess got too bad.  "We'll be right back down." </p><p>But Prussia would have to wait a little bit longer,  because once they were in the shower he had her again, slamming her against the wall so roughly that the house shook.  He had nearly two hundred years to make up for and he was going to do it right. </p><p>"You are mine," he swore, staring into the frightening depths of her eyes.  The color was slightly darker than normal,  and one of her pupils was larger than the other.  This he had also seen before, when he was newly arrived in her lands and she was recovering from a surprise and unwelcome visit from the English bastard.  She had successfully run him off using horrific violence, obliterating three-quarters of his expedition party in an earthquake and landslide, but the side effects were a period of uncontrolled growth, which meant lawlessness.  He had not wanted to bed her when she was like that because he didn't want to take advantage of her, but she had offered herself and he couldn't resist.  She had calmed down just in time to meet Prussia.  Then she had really gotten dangerously savage.  Now he wiped the blood from her neck and shoulder.  "You are mine, and I am yours."</p><p>"I always have been," she replied, repeating what she had said downstairs. </p><p>"Then why Tyskland, elskede? Why did you go to all the trouble of getting his attention?" he wondered, as they dried off.  For the first time, she looked uncertain. </p><p>"Because you didn't want me," she answered in a small voice.  Stunned,  he gripped her chin and lifted her face.</p><p>"You thought I didn't...<em>want</em> you?" he repeated.  "Why would you think that? Kate, I <em>always</em> wanted you.  You just didn't see.  I never kept it secret."</p><p>"Mathias, why didn't you say?" she pleaded.  "I wouldn't have refused you."</p><p>He hadn't been worried about that, but he <em>had</em> been concerned about his relationship with Amerika.  Once Amerika had adopted her from Finland, Denmark knew that the rules prohibited him from being freely intimate with her; the nature of her relationship with Amerika allowed him to take her for himself if he so chose, just as any other nation that was settling her would do.  But he had not been first, and she had made it famously difficult for Amerika to get close to her.  Finally, out of concern for her emotional health, he had advised Amerika to pay attention to what she might want during sex.  He knew that every time Amerika touched her, she didn't want it,  which infuriated him.  He had never forced her, so just that knowledge was enough to cause him to seriously consider stealing her back.  Norge and Fin had talked him out of it.</p><p>She went downstairs first,  but he thought nothing of it until Prussia raised his voice.  "Mathias! Jesus Christ, get down here!"</p><p>Denmark heard the edge in Prussia's voice and knew, without a  single doubt,  that the crash had begun.</p>
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<a name="section0019"><h2>19. England III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything hurt.  </p><p>The first thing he was aware of, even before opening his eyes, was pain.  It greeted him cheerfully,  singsong. <em> Hi there!  So I'm Tyler, I'm your new roommate, and I just know we'll get along great! </em></p><p>What the fuck had happened?  He pried his eyes open and the fluorescent lights viciously assailed his sensitive eyes.</p><p><em>Yeah, so I just have a few rules,</em> Tyler went on.  <em>No loud parties and no crazy bitches.</em></p><p>What had he done?</p><p>England tried to remember what had happened, because obviously something had.  He drew a complete blank after the part of the meeting with Washington where she'd basically ordered him to stay behind with her.   His mind drew a blank but his body did not. </p><p>Jesus fucking Christ, he hadn't actually raped the poor woman, had he?  Good Lord, he couldn't have. <em>Couldn't</em> have.  He hadn't done anything so heinous in nearly five centuries. There was no way he would have done something like that if she hadn't...provoked him.  That was it.  She must have.  And then she most likely had told America that he had attacked her, but what had happened to him? If America had hurt him, he'd be in much worse shape. Not that he felt all that great, mind you, but it'd be worse if--</p><p>A hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing hard.  He struggled weakly, his eyes flying open.  Amongst the shards of light in his eyes, was the face of a very angry Denmark.  He struggled to speak, but the former Viking shook his head, tightening his grip.</p><p>"Don't say a fucking word, England," he said his voice low and threatening.  "I do not think that I need to remind you of who I am.  But just to make sure, let's  go over it.  I am Kongeriget Danmark, and I was a very formidable foe of yours for a long time and if you <em>ever</em> put your filthy hands--or any other part of you, for that matter--on Washington ever again, I will personally destroy you."  He released England's throat and backed up, smiling as if he hadn't just threatened to kill him.  "I'm watching you.  A good thing it was Russia and not Amerika who shoved you off that roof.  If it had been my choice, I would have liberated your head from your neck."  He turned and left room without another word, and England struggled to breathe, but it hurt even worse than before.</p><p>No.  No, he thought, but it was true.  He had done this awful thing.  If word of it got out, he was done for.  He struggled to a sitting position and groped for his call button, intending to get more Dilaudid,  but he stopped short as it occurred to him that numbing himself wouldn't  help--look what it had done to America, and even Washington,  as unaffected as she seemed to be.  </p><p>Fuck it, he needed painkillers.  </p><p>It wasn't a nurse who brought the drugs.</p><p>It was Washington. </p><p>"Good God, can this day be any more unpleasant?" he snapped,  but his eyes took her in and appreciated her even as he noticed the fading bruise on her face.</p><p>"I didn't do that to you," he frowned.</p><p>"No," she replied, her voice like velvet.  "You didn't leave any marks on me.  Even that nice slice you gave me is healed.  I'll survive you."</p><p>"What are you doing?" he demanded as she leaned to inject the Dilaudid into his line.  "What the fucking hell happened to your neck?!" He sighed and fell back against his pillows as the drug kicked in.  Now he could handle anything.  "You look as if you've been eaten alive."</p><p>"England,  I'm surprised at you," she scolded.  "You can't tell me you don't know a claim-staking mark when you see one.  You've given plenty of them.  Even Alfred still has his scar."</p><p>"That is not Alfred's mark," England insisted.</p><p>"No, of course it isn't.  He wasn't even the first.  You know that.  I had settlers when he took me," Washington reminded him.</p><p>England wished Tyler would come back. "You cannot tell me that is an old mark, W--Katrina.  It's still bleeding," he pointed out.  She smiled at him with only her mouth.  Her eyes ripped through him, over and over. </p><p>"And that is the most ridiculous thing you have said all day,  Arthur," she replied, pounding his name. "It's not a new mark, it's just an updated one.  I think his teeth are sharper now," she added, inspecting the bite in the lavatory mirror.  She turned to him, still grinning like a deaths head. "They went right through the old scars."</p><p>"Did Denmark beat the fuck out of you, too?" England asked, snidely.  The smile instantly vanished from her face, but what replaced it was no better.  Her face went suddenly and carefully blank.  He felt his guts twist violently. </p><p>"Denmark has never hurt me in any way, and he never will.  Which is much more than I can say for the rest of you bastards.  Except Romano and his brother."  Her eye twitched.  "I ought to kill you right now." Her hands tightened on the rail of his bed and twisted just a little.  The metal and plastic bent and cracked.  "But I promised that I wouldn't do it here."  She lowered her chin and fixed her smoldering eyes on him.  "So you have to go, Arthur."</p><p>"Wh--what..."</p><p>She widened and then shut her eyes.  "You need to go home!  Back to fucking England, because I can't <em>deal</em> with your <em>goddamn shit! </em> It wasn't bad enough that you fucking raped me, Arthur.  Now, I have to deal with the constant stress of worrying about whether or not I will have to get an abortion because I'll be damned if I bear one of your offspring.  I'll cut my own throat first," she hissed.</p><p>"You...bitch," he murmured, drifting.  "If I wasn't so...fucked up, I'd make you...pay for that remark."</p><p>"Fuck you, Arthur," she snarled, and turned to go, but she had underestimated him all along.  His hand shot out and grasped her wrist in an iron grip.  With barely any effort he pulled her down so he could speak in her ear, his eye on the doorway in case that bloodthirsty Denmark was nearby.  </p><p>"And wouldn't it be awful," he hissed,  "if you did that and it wasn't mine at all, you little whore?"  He grinned savagely.  "What ever would Germany think of all this?"</p><p>Just when he thought he was getting the upper hand, he slipped.   It wasn't Denmark who loomed in the doorway,  but his absolute worst nightmare. </p><p>Prussia. </p><p>"I think that will be quite enough,  Herr Kirkland," he purred,  his red eyes gleaming.  He came to Washington's side and easily took her from England's grasp as though he were taking candy from a baby.  "You are upsetting my friend, and I'm afraid I can't let that continue.  Katrina, why don't you go on outside and wait for me?"</p><p><em>Hey!</em> Tyler exclaimed,  popping back into England's head.  <em>Just a reminder, no crazies!</em></p><p>"Fine," Washington hissed, stalking out of the room.  At the door she turned and brought her hand to her throat, making several  violent slashing gestures and pointing at him.  England fluttered his eyes impatiently.  </p><p>"All right, Prussia, what do you wan--" He was cut off by Prussia's hand locking around his already-bruised throat.  England let out a tiny, indignant sound.  The hand around his windpipe only tightened. </p><p>"There is a terrible rumor going around about you," Prussia began.  "Maybe you've heard it.  They're saying that you attacked Washington when you were alone with her.  An unprovoked attack on one of Amerika's most strategic coastal states!  Now, of course that couldn't be further from the truth, now could it?"</p><p>England struggled to free himself. </p><p>"It was an honest mistake," Prussia went on, "isn't that all it was? She was giving you mixed signals during that meeting and you thought she wanted to hook up. But it just so happens that you're as bad at interpreting people's vibes as Amerika pretends to be."  He squeezed even harder until England thought his head would pop clean off his neck.  "That's why you're  going to do as she asked and get the fuck out of here before we get you out of here.  You're spoiling her whole day, being here and everything.  We have a whole afternoon of fun planned,  but you're here."  He brought his face closer and England could smell anise on his breath. "And you'll be leaving in the morning,  isn't that right?"</p><p>Despite his struggling, England could not free himself from Prussia's iron grasp. "Yes, all right, I'm leaving first thing! Goddamn you, don't you know I came here to help her?  I came here to help America!"</p><p>"You can't help him," Prussia hissed.  "What were you planning on doing, giving him a cup of tea and some biscuits? There's no fixing this, you fucking idiot.  This entire country is fucked."  He sneered.  "Go help your own fucked-up people. God knows they need it."  He released England's throat and abruptly turned away.  "We're watching you." He started from the room, but England wasn't done yet.</p><p>"And I'm watching you, Prussia," he called.  "Don't forget that.  I'm wise to you, even if nobody else is."  </p><p>Prussia paused, then turned back towards him.  As he approached the side of the bed he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black knife with a switchblade.  Before England could scramble away, Prussia grabbed his hand and pinned it to the mattress.</p><p><em>Just a reminder!</em>  Tyler screamed in his ear as the blade went into his hand to the hilt. </p><p>"Keep watching, England," he hissed.  "I think maybe you will be most unpleasantly surprised."</p><p>By the time the nurse came in to see what the matter was, both Prussia and the knife were gone.</p>
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<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Prussia II</h2></a>
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    <p>Terrorizing England had been more enjoyable than he had expected.  To celebrate their Even More Awesomeness, Denmark went across the street to get them all ice cream sodas.  Washington was totally yelling at him for getting <em>England blood</em> on her hospital's sheets, but he didn't really care.  Finally he turned to her and took her face in his hands, smashing her cheeks.</p><p>"Listen, Birdie," he began, "he won't be bothering you any more.  If he even <em>tries</em> it, he'll have to deal with a lot <em>worse</em> than a little cut on his hand."</p><p>"I would certainly <em>hope so</em>," she said through her smooshed lips.  He realized that she wanted to talk, so he let go.  "Now, look, Gil.  What do you see down there?  Not <em>there,"</em> she sighed, patiently.  She grabbed his wrist and used his own hand to point.  <em>"There."</em></p><p>He drew in a slow breath as a massive crowd seemed to converge from out of nowhere at the intersection at the bottom of the hill.  Like other protests he had seen, the people were nearly out of control, and he <em>expected</em> it to end the same way, with the police clumsily attempting to keep order and the protesters destroying entire city blocks.  But what actually <em>happened</em> was quite different. </p><p>The crowd began to push on the police lines, and a few people broke through the metal barrier gates that separated them.  Instead of immediately reacting, the police waited until the inevitable first projectile was thrown, and then they stepped aside as a second line of cops brought forth hoses.  They leveled the nozzles and turned on the water so quickly that nobody had a chance to run for it.  The blast hit the crowd with such force that the nearest protesters were knocked backwards into their comrades.  The angry crowd quickly became a terrified, wet crowd.  </p><p>A few people, armed with Molotov cocktail bombs, lobbed the flaming bottles over the heads of the spraying police, but even as the bombs hit their targets, the water cannons suddenly gave way to real ones, and the crowd devolved into complete panic.  People began to scatter in all directions,  but they had forgotten about the roadblocks that they had set up in an attempt to keep the police out of their designated protest area.  These were now all occupied by members of the Washington National Guard.  </p><p>Prussia also took notice of the way the police used dogs to keep those who were particularly afraid of the animals under control.  It was a simple and very effective way to handle them, especially with the dogs wearing bulletproof vests in case of gunfire.  He felt Washington's fingernails digging into his forearms and realized that they were nearly crushing each other in their excitement at the scene below.  </p><p>"C'mon," she muttered, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "do it, <em>shoot</em> them!"</p><p>Startled, he turned and stared at her, unable to believe what he had just heard come out of her mouth.  She <em>wanted</em> them to be shot?  How could that be possible?  Even if she wasn't affected by what <em>happened</em> to her people--land personifications never were--he would have thought that she at <em>least</em> cared about them.  By <em>now</em>.  Yet here she was, nearly salivating at the possibility of casualties, and he had to admit that he had never seen anything so arousing in his life than Washington when she was like that.  <em>Denmark is a lucky bastard,</em> he thought.  Not that he hadn't gotten lucky with her <em>himself</em>, but Denmark had been first, and that was a coveted relationship.  Because the two of them were close friends and because they both had a history with Washington, Denmark was, however reluctantly, willing to allow him to be intimate with her if she indicated that she was interested.  Almost right after Germany had called with the news that they must go to Washington to help her, Denmark had informed him that he intended to take her back if he found out that something funny was going on with her and Germany.  Prussia had not really cared whether his Bruder would be hurt by this and had agreed that it would be for the best if she was with her best good close friends.</p><p>Prussia knew without a doubt that Washington had serious mental issues; he had <em>always</em> known.  The very first time he met her, even though she had already been claimstaked by Denmark, she had worked him up to the point where he took her into the forest behind her house and utterly <em>ravaged</em> her.  Finland and Russia had been there, so he was careful to take her far enough so that if they got loud (they had) nobody would be able to tell that it was them.  He had been a little concerned, not because he was afraid of her parents (Finland did scare him a little) or worried about Denmark but because the fact alone that she was Russia's and Finland's daughter was enough to warn of the dangerous instability that lurked beneath the surface.  She enjoyed violent sex, even during her more agreeable periods, and even liked him to hurt her when they were in the throes, but that was different than what Germany had done.  His Bruder was an absolute fool for striking her out of anger.  But he was still fairly young in comparison with them, and he was a citizen-based personification so maybe he wasn't aware that using violence against her would only serve to cultivate her hatred of him.  </p><p>He wondered how long Denmark was going to take, because he seriously wanted to fuck her <em>right there.</em></p><p>The blasts rocked the very earth and Washington shrieked in ecstasy, jumping up into his arms and hugging him just as Denmark returned with the sodas.</p><p>"Wow, what'd I miss?" he exclaimed, gazing down at the carnage below.  "Holy <em>shit</em>, was that a <em>cannon?</em>  I just thought it was a grenade!"  He handed Prussia and Washington their sodas, giving Washington a worried look when she wasn't paying attention.  Prussia caught his eye and shrugged.  "Maybe we should go down there."</p><p>Washington immediately jumped on the suggestion.  <em>"Yes! </em> Get your phones out.  We've got to get a record of this in case someone fucks it all up."</p><p>Denmark grabbed Prussia's arm as Washington knocked her soda back and then jumped over the railing to the street below.  She took off at a dead run.  "I <em>meant</em> go down there and help those people get medical attention," he insisted, but it was too late.  They now had no choice but to follow her into the madness. </p><p>And Prussia couldn't say that he minded.</p><p>Not in the <em>least</em>.</p><p> </p>
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